Again and Again
by Vintage Tea Party
Summary: Henry and Abe receive a visit from their longtime friends Adaline and Flemming. Henry can't help but reflect on the past that brought them together, the tragedy that almost separated them forever and the bond that would always keep them close.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story will include present day events (those that take place in 2015) and moments from Henry and Adaline's past. The present day events I place as happening shortly after Forever's season and slightly before "The Age of Adaline" movie. This is a story that has been in my mind for a LONG time and I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I have loved writing it!**

 **New York-2015**

Henry pulled his watch out of his pocket to check the time once again. He looked at the board and then back down at the watch before shutting it in nervous frustration. With as advanced as technology had become over the years he would have expected that an airplane could arrive at its destination on time but that apparently wasn't the case. Though, technically, according to the arrival board the flight from San Francisco _had_ been on time but his watch showed that 15 minutes had passed since it had landed and there was still no sign of her anywhere.

Henry buried his hands in his pockets and bounced a little on his feet with pent-up energy. Normally, he wasn't as impatient as he was acting at the moment but he couldn't help it. He hadn't seen his oldest and dearest friend in years and now that he knew she was here in the same city as him, in the very same building as him, every minute apart was a torture. He'd arrived an hour early in his excitement but the longer he waited the more that enthusiasm was turning into nervousness.

It was always strange waiting for her like this. In a way, he enjoyed it. He rarely ever felt so much anticipation and excitement as he did in these last few minutes apart. He could not deny there was an exhilaration in these moments that he relished. But there was also a little bit of worry too. She was his closest friend but they had not seen each for a few years. It gave a person the strange sensation of both knowing someone and having them be a bit of a stranger at the same time. He searched each face that passed by feeling both eagerness and trepidation at finding her among them. Finally, he saw her turn around the corner and head down the hallway towards him.

"Adaline," he whispered, a smile quickly spreading across his face.

She was still quite a distance from him but he could see her face light up with a smile of her own as she spotted him. He felt his heart warm at the sight, the whole of him so happy to see her again and glad to know she felt the same. Any silly worry he'd had over seeing her again faded in an instant. He cursed the security barrier that kept him back, not allowing him to rush towards her as he wished. She walked briskly but she did not run, clearly trying to restrain herself and appear the lady she was. But he watched as her steps got quicker and quicker until she finally couldn't stand it anymore and ran the last few steps.

Finally, her arms were around him. He wrapped his arms tight around her in reciprocation without holding any of himself back. As reserved and careful as they both felt they had to be in their interactions with everyone else in their lives, they didn't have to be that way without each other. And that felt really good.

"I've missed you, Henry," Adaline whispered from her place against his shoulder.

"I've missed you too, Adaline. There's still so much time to make up for. I apologize."

"Don't worry," she reassured him, pulling back but her arms remained on his, keeping him close. She smiled as she took in the sight of him. "You look well."

"You look lovely."

She was the very picture of modern vintage. Her hair was rolled on the sides and pulled back into a pony tail at the back which was a style he hadn't seen in decades. Her bright red lip stick spoke of another time but her dress, though he knew it was vintage, didn't look out of place at all because it had come back into style. He only knew it was old because he knew how long she'd had it. It was one his favorites. He smiled all the more when he realized that she had surely worn it in anticipation of seeing him again.

They stood in silence for a few moments practically beaming at each other before Henry couldn't help himself and reached out to pull her into another hug. "You going to get sentimental on me?" she asked in a jesting tone but she held onto him all the same.

"Maybe," he said as he melted against her. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face against her shoulder. He breathed deeply and sighed with relief to be able to be near her again. He realized even more how much he'd missed her, not just in the few years since he'd seen her last but from the much longer absence that had followed before that. They'd exchanged phone calls and letters to keep in touch but that was a poor substitute for being in each other's company.

"I'm really glad you're here, Adaline. Or," he said lowering his voice, "should I say Amanda or whatever you call yourself these days."

"Amanda?" Flemming asked in surprise, finally coming up to join them. "She hasn't called herself that in decades. I guess the memory really does go in the old age," she teased at Henry.

Henry pulled back from Adaline and turned towards Flemming. "I was wondering where you were."

"Well, Mom was so impatient to see you I told her she didn't have to wait on these old legs to keep up with her. And I have to say she was all too happy to leave me in the dust."

"You're exaggerating," Adaline said in a don't-embarrass-your-mother kind of way, a look of embarrassment on her face.

"I am not," Flemming insisted, ignoring the warning. "You should have seen her. She was bouncing up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. I thought she was going to trample the other passengers in her haste to get off the plane. To be honest, I was kind of glad to be rid of her."

Henry laughed and Adaline blushed red. "O.K. that's enough, _dear_ ," she insisted a little firmer this time.

Henry gave Adaline a smug smile. "You missed me," he teased, quite delighted.

Adaline would admit nothing and though she made a show of avoiding his eyes the smirk on her face let him know his words were very true.

"Ah, Flemming," Henry said turning to give her hug. "It's been so long."

"I know. I'm an old woman now."

It had been a very long time since Henry had seen Flemming and he would have to admit that she looked very different than the last time he'd seen her. The age upon her bothered him, only because it reminded him of how much time had passed since he'd seen her last. She was his best friend's daughter and he probably hadn't seen her in almost forty years.

But he was comforted by the fact that some things never changed. Her humor, her smile, the important things of her, hadn't seemed to change at all. They were as he had always remembered. "You forget, I have old eyes," Henry said. "And they tend to see everyone as much younger than they really are. I think it will be hard for me to remember you as anything other than the young woman you were when we first met. Or even the little girl you were when we very first met."

"Wow," Flemming said her eye brows arching up in surprise. "I wish everybody saw the world with old eyes. Then I could be forever young like the two of you."

"I am sorry it's been so long."

"It's alright. Remember, I have an ageless mother and so I know the handful you immortals can be," she teased.

"Where's Abe?" Adaline asked looking around her a little for him.

"He's back home working on a small feast for us."

Adaline and Flemming looked at each other and smiled. "Well, then," Adaline said, "What are we waiting for?"

Any worries that Henry had earlier had faded and he could already tell they were going to have a wonderful visit.

* * *

Henry finished pouring wine into his glass and held it up towards Adaline. They clinked their glasses together in a toast before drinking.

"Henry, really this is such a lovely place you have," Adaline marveled as she gazed around the rooftop terrace. It was a beautiful late May evening and the weather was warm but not hot. The sun was beginning to set and it gave the many strings of lights that lit the area more and more brilliance with every passing minute.

"This is definitely my favorite part of it." Henry loved the rooftop terrace and always enjoyed the opportunity to have company over in this space. He had been looking forward to Adaline's visit and the chance to show it off to her.

"I can certainly see why. The shop too is just wonderful. "

"I can't take credit for any of it though; it was all Abe's doing. I, unfortunately, was present for very little of it. Abe did all the work without much help from his useless father."

"Now, now," she chided. "I see quite a bit of influence from his old dad in this shop."

"I think you give me too much credit."

"I don't. You're much too hard on yourself."

He was so glad to see her again and he could hardly drag his eyes away from her for even a moment. Of all life's pleasures, being with an old friend after a long absence had to be one of the best. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder and nothing compared to that excitement of being reunited. It felt like the best of both worlds because while they were so familiar and comfortable with each other there was so much exciting news to get caught up on it made everything feel new.

She looked especially beautiful in the growing ambiance of the setting around them and Henry thought again about how easy it would have been for them to fall in love. The intensity of the struggle they shared, the loneliness of the secrets they both kept, could have easily driven them to a passion for each other. Henry was glad it had never been an option. When he'd met Adaline and for the first several decades of their friendship he'd been with Abigail. By the time he was no longer a married man Adaline had long ago become something else entirely to him. He was grateful for that, knowing it was probably the very reason she was still in his life. They both needed each other too much to have potentially ruined things with a romance gone wrong. Even as friends he'd very nearly ruined what they shared.

She had become to him like family, an ever present, never changing part of his life. Friends normally didn't survive the long distances and long absences that he and Adaline kept. But what they had was so deep that they could come together after time spent away, close as if no separation had occurred at all.

She crossed her arms on the table and focused her attention on him. "So, how is New York treating you?"

She really already knew the answer to this. He and Adaline had kept in touch through letters and the occasional phone call but this was her first visit to see him since his most recent move back to New York. He had filled her in on all the details of living with Abe again, his job at the M.E.'s office and his new partnership with the NYPD. But there was a big difference between writing to her about something and getting to have an actual conversation with her in person about it.

"I'm doing very well here."

She stared intently at him, trying to determine if was being honest or not. Besides Abe she was the one who had the most practice at reading him. He knew she wanted to ask how he was doing because she wanted to see his reaction for herself. In a letter he could make it sound like he was doing better than he actually was but in person she could read his feelings for herself. Henry had always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve and if he lied Adaline would be able to tell. But this time he really was being honest. He knew why she felt such concern for his well-being and though it was embarrassing to remember how unwell he had been for a time he was also touched by her ongoing concern.

"Really," he insisted, trying to put her mind at ease. "Coming back to New York was the best thing I could have done. I love living here with Abe. Getting to spend so much time with him has been a gift. It's been good to be back where things are familiar. And I'm really enjoying my work so much. I'm happy."

It was almost a surprise to realize that he really was happy. It had been a long time in coming and this year had held so many challenges of its own. But this year had also been the happiest one he had experienced in a very long time. There were so many good things that had happened and they far outweighed the bad ones.

"You really do seem happy," she remarked, looking very pleased. "I'm so glad to see it."

There had been a lot of ups and downs in Henry's life and Adaline had been there for all of it. She had seen everything; the good, the bad and the ugly. He knew that she worried a lot about him and he was once again glad for this visit. Things were finally turning around for him and he was glad that she would be able to see the improvements for herself.

Loud laughter rose to them from the kitchen in the apartment below. Abe and Flemming were in there together cooking dinner together. Henry had tried to get Flemming to sit and rest, insisting that she was a guest and shouldn't have to help with the meal preparation. She had only laughed and said that her and her mother had not been 'guests' for quite some time and to call them such again would be considered an insult. Henry had smiled and conceded. Now he realized that, of course, Abe and Flemming had wanted some time alone to do their own catching up and hadn't wanted their parents involved.

"They sound like they're enjoying themselves," he said.

"You know, they're probably laughing at our expense," Adaline said with a smile.

"Oh, I _know_ they're laughing at us. Still, it's good for them."

Over the years, Abe and Flemming's friendship had grown along with Henry and Adaline's. It had taken a while in the beginning due to the large age gap between them but as they grew older their relationship became more and more dear. They didn't keep in touch quite as closely as Henry and Adaline did during the times when they were apart but they loved connecting during these visits. Abe wasn't much of a letter writer but he gladly took every opportunity to laugh at his father and in Flemming he found a very sympathetic ear. Henry genuinely didn't care if Abe and Flemming were spending all their time making fun of their immortal and immortal-ish parents and he knew Adaline didn't mind either. Their children needed a confidant who understood to share their own struggles and challenges with and they could only do that with each other. Henry and Adaline didn't let people into their secrets and Abe and Flemming often paid the price. Henry was grateful for any opportunity for Abe to be able to spend time with someone who he could speak freely with.

As Henry focused on the sound of their laughter and the murmur of their conversation he realized just how long it had been since all four of them had been together like this. It had been so long it was hard to recall when the last time had been. When he could finally pinpoint the memory he felt a pain in his heart; back then it had been the _five_ of them.

"Henry," Adaline said, pulling his mind back to the present. "You look sad. Why?"

Henry tried to get a grip. For once, he didn't want to have his mind in the past and he struggled to not let himself go there and become depressed. "It's just been so long since we've all been together like this."

"It must have been a bit of a shock to see Flemming again."

"I have to admit it was. It's just been so long since I saw her last. With you and me I can almost forget how much time has really passed but with them…it's just so obvious. It's my fault; I've kept us apart."

"Hey," she said, softly and reaching across the table to put her hand in his, getting him to look up again. "That's all in the past. We've all moved past it and you need to too. You spend entirely too much time in the past. _Old man_ ," she said, teasing him.

It did the trick and Henry smiled. This was one of their things. Even though they were similar in so many ways there was still a big age difference between them and they used it to tease each other. "Just because I appreciate history does not mean I am an old man," he said, pretending to be offended.

"An appreciation for history might not but a steadfast refusal to move along with the times does."

"I think I do very well in the present time."

"Henry, you don't even have a cell phone or a personal email account."

"So, what? I clearly can survive without them. You know, just because things change does not mean they change for the better. You'll realize that someday when you grow up."

At the age of 107 Adaline was hardly a child but at 235 Henry was still more tired of change than she was. Adaline appreciated the modern world and its technological advances more than Henry did but she was a lot younger than him. This was one of the only areas where they tended to disagree about things but instead of taking it too seriously they joked about it and he loved that. They would also have to admit the other one often had a valid point. Henry knew he _did_ sometimes sound like an old man when he talked like this and Adaline _did_ prefer their old-fashioned letter correspondence over the impersonal exchange of emails.

After a pause, Adaline's expression turned serious. She made no move to take her hand out of his and he was glad. They both had a fondness for physical affection and since they spent so much of their time with thousands of miles between them when they were together they took advantage of every opportunity to show their love for each other in this way.

"How are you, _really_?" she asked, eyes filled with concern.

He knew what she was asking. Of course she had seen through to where his thoughts had really been. They hadn't been able discuss this in person yet and he'd known she'd want to see for herself how he was really doing. He'd told her what he had learned about Abigail's death; she'd been the first one he'd gone to. In fact, he'd spent hours on the phone in tearful conversation with her the very night Adam had delivered the terrible news. Remembering that long night brought tears to his eyes now. Adaline had been the only bright spot during that horrific day. She'd stayed up nearly all night listening to him and giving him the strength he needed to be able to break the news to Abe. She'd even offered to get on a plane right then and come and see him but he knew she was already scheduled to come for this visit and since it had only been a few weeks away he had declined.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. "It's been hard but I'm doing O.K. Really, a lot of the time I feel torn between extremes. On the one hand, I've known in my heart of hearts that Abigail was gone for a long time now. But actually knowing, for certain, that she died is _so_ painful. Ever since she left I've been able to hold on to the hope that someday, maybe, I might see her again, just one last time. But at the same time I know that clinging to that hope held me back; I could never move on because of it. I could never give myself the chance to even imagine a new life without her as long as I knew she might still be out there. Basically, I'm all a jumble. As usual," he said, with a painful self-depreciating smile.

Adaline reached her other hand to their already joined ones and held his firmly between both of hers. "I miss her too," she said softly, her own eyes sparkling which made it even harder for Henry not to cry. It was exactly what he wanted to hear from her.

"It's so awful what happened to her and I feel so guilty. That makes it feel even more wrong that I feel…I feel…relieved." He looked to Adaline it see if she thought he was horrible for feeling that way but she only nodded her head to show him she understood. "I'm relieved to finally know the truth. The not knowing was so terrible. And now I know she never really left us. For so long I thought…I thought she had stopped loving me, that she'd given up on what we had together. And now I know that she never did, not even at the end."

Henry couldn't help it. He did cry for a little while and Adaline came over and held him. It felt good to talk to her about this even if it really hurt too. He knew that she missed Abigail too and he was glad just to know that Abigail would be remembered by another person in this world. Adaline and Abigail had been friends for so many years and he knew Adaline missed their friendship. Though all three of them had shared many times together over the years, the two of them had had their own special, separate memories apart from him too. Adaline had had a friendship with Abigail in a way that only two women could share. He knew it was a relief to her too to finally know what happened. He could see it in her eyes and that gave him peace about his own feelings about this news.

After he was able to compose himself, Adaline sat back down in her chair. They were silent for a few moments as they dried their tears and drank a little more from their glasses. Finally, Adaline spoke. "I would like to go down to the river sometime during my visit."

Adaline looked a little nervous like she thought maybe Henry wouldn't want to take her down to the place where he and Abe had spread Abigail's ashes but he was, in fact, very pleased with her request. "I was already planning for us to do that tomorrow," he admitted.

She gave him a little smile. They were so often on the same page. "Good."

He reached out to take her hands again and held them. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too, Henry. Me too."

Adaline often accused him of getting lost in the past but he couldn't help but find himself reflecting on it now once again. Their friendship, which was now spanning more than 60 years, was one of his life's greatest blessings. He often marveled that it had even been possible. After all, what were the odds that they would ever meet? Really, what were the odds that the two of them, with such extraordinary secrets which they guarded fiercely, would ever meet and know they were alike? And they hadn't just met once; they had been brought together twice in order to make a friendship. That friendship that had held them together through the years had once almost ripped them apart. But then their love for each other had brought them back together again and made them stronger than ever.

Their own separate stories were extraordinary but not half as much as the one they shared together. Even after all this time Henry was still surprised by their amazing story. He found his mind focusing back on their very first memory together, that first meeting before they even became friends, all the way back in 1937.


	2. Chapter 2

**New York-1937**

Henry sighed when he stepped into his office and saw the mountain of paperwork that awaited him. He still didn't understand how it piled up so quickly in such a small family practice as his. He had a tendency to put it off in favor of all his more interesting duties but since he had just finished his morning appointments he knew he had no excuse for not getting at least a little of it done.

Henry had spent most of his career working in a hospital. That was until James' death had changed everything. After watching his friend slowly and painfully die of tuberculosis he didn't feel he could, at least for the time being, bear the hospital environment where people were seriously sick and where death was a daily occurrence. He wanted something slower and cases that were simple. He wanted patients he could help, ones that would actually get better under his care. Henry had never had his own practice but at the time he had been eager for something different.

 _James_. It had been over 30 years since James' death but remembering his friend still hurt. Henry had never even meant for their friendship to happen in the first place. He didn't have and probably would never have a normal life so he couldn't get attached to people who led them. Because of this his life had contained nothing more than a few necessary acquaintances.

But James had found a way in where many others had failed. Since they had started off as colleagues Henry hadn't realized he was in danger of becoming so fond of James until it was already too late. They had worked together daily and so Henry couldn't ignore him and he found himself almost instantly taken in by James' charm. Henry had found himself surprised when he realized James was seeking out a friendship with him and he was even more surprised when he found himself accepting it. More surprising still was how quickly they had become so close. Despite all his rules he'd let James in and found in him the best friend he'd ever had. As short-lived as their friendship had been James had not only left a lasting impression; he'd forever changed Henry as a person.

Sitting at his desk in the present, Henry still had to close his eyes as he remembered the past. It hurt how much he had loved James and how terrible it had been to watch him suffer in the end. Henry had immortality and medicine but neither one had been able to do his friend any good. Henry had already loathed his curse but he soon found himself hating his profession too. Medicine, which had been their passion, had absolutely nothing to offer James. If anything, it had only made matters worse; treatment had only prolonged James' suffering.

Henry knew it wasn't normal or healthy to still suffer so much after so many years had pasted but he was convinced he would never have another friend so close and dear. Most days he was convinced he would never have another friend at all. After all, he couldn't really allow it. The rules, which he had bent for James, were there to protect him and others. He now followed them with renewed and strict determination. He had let someone in and suffered for it. Yet, he never once regretted it or wished to take it all back. He could not deny how much he had enjoyed having a friend. His condition might make it a necessity for him to be alone but he never had found a way to stop feeling lonely.

Leaving the hospital had probably started out as simply running away. Henry just hadn't been able to bear being there both because it had failed James and because of the happy memories they had shared as colleagues there. But now he realized that he actually enjoyed the slow-paced work. It was much different than working in the hospital and even though he was sure he wasn't going to work here forever he was enjoying it for now.

There was a quiet knock on his door before his nurse poked her head in.

"Excuse me Dr. Morgan but there's a walk-in that's just come in. Do you want to see them now or should I ask them to wait?"

Henry glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly noon which must be why she was asking.

"I'll see to them now. What's the complaint?"

"A five-year-old girl with a suspected broken arm."

Henry stood up immediately when he heard that, eager to get in and treat the girl; he always hated to see children suffer unnecessarily. "Thank you," he said to his nurse as he exited the office and started to walk down the hall towards the exam room. "You can go ahead and take your lunch break if you like."

She smiled. "Thank you."

As he watched her leave he thought of how he regretted that soon he'd have to let her go. She was a good worker but she had been with him too long. He'd done this a few times now since he'd had his practice; it was too easy for them to see he wasn't aging. In fact, it really might be time for him to start thinking about moving on to another position himself. He'd been here for a long time and soon the patients might even start noticing. Fortunately, he didn't really have many patients that stayed with him long enough that it had become a problem. But really he was pressing his luck by staying in one place so long.

As Henry walked towards the exam room he started to hear the cries of a very distraught child.

"No, Mama, no!" he heard her nearly shout in between cries.

A woman's voice, presumably the mother, answered back in a calming tone. "We have to see what the doctor says first."

"But you promised!" the girl said as she broke down sobbing.

The mother's voice came back sounding pained in that way parents' voices sounded when they felt their child's suffering. "Flemming, _darling_ , it will be alright."

He knocked on the door and paused a moment before going in. "Hello, I'm Dr. Morgan," he said as way of introduction as he stepped into the room.

The mother was holding her daughter in her lap held close to her but she offered Henry a polite smile and managed to extricate one of her arms and shake his hand.

Henry pulled up a chair and sat across from them. He glanced at the intake form before speaking. "So, Flemming what seems to be the problem?" he said addressing the girl.

He always liked to speak to the patient directly even when the patient was a child. He found that children were much more cooperative when you included them in the discussion rather than immediately going over their heads and speaking only to their parent. He found that it made them feel grown-up and that often made them face their treatment much more bravely.

Flemming was wrapped tightly around mother but she lifted her head from her mother's shoulder and turned around to face him and gave him a curious look. He could tell she was surprised he was talking her but, like most children of that age group, she gladly took the chance to tell her story.

"Mama said we were going to Coney Island today and now she says we might not go! But this is our last day in New York and if we don't go today we won't get to!"

Henry had to repress a smile. That was just like a child; being more upset about the cancelled plans than the injury itself. As a physician it was terrible having to watch children suffer but there was something incredibly inspiring by their resiliency. They could be so sick or injured but they never wanted it to slow them down. Their thirst for life was so great it made them able to overcome huge amounts of pain. Even after so many years it still caught him by surprise and made him wish he could be more like that himself.

Flemming's mother, Mrs. Bowman, did smile a little as she ran a hand through Flemming's hair. "I think he was asking about your arm, sweetheart." She looked at Henry. "Our taxi was in a bit of an accident," she explained.

Flemming, who was still wearing a very serious expression, seemed to care very little about her injured arm. She was holding her right arm close to her body with her left. Even from a distance Henry could tell it was bruised and beaten-up and had to be in pain but Flemming seemed to not care about that as much as she was worried about missing out on her fun plans for the day. "It really doesn't hurt that much, Mama."

Again, Henry had to suppress a smile as the Flemming gave him that universal kid look that said, without any words at all, that parents overreacted about everything and they always got in the way of having fun.

"Well, let's have a looksee here just so we can put your mama's mind at ease, alright?" Henry asked her.

Flemming hesitated a moment before holding out her arm to him. The second he touched it she winced and he knew then she was in a lot more pain than she was letting on. Her face grew more distressed as he performed his examination and so he continued his conversation to distract her.

"So, Flemming, is this your first trip to New York?"

"Yes."

"Where are you both from?"

"San Francisco. Mama said we needed a change of scenery."

"Oh and why is that?" he asked playing along, surprised at how grown-up the girl sounded.

"Because Daddy died and she said it would be a nice to get away for a while."

Henry couldn't help but stop for a second. He hadn't been expecting such a sad answer to his question. Without a doubt he would have to say his favorite thing about having his practice was having all the time he wanted to talk with his patients. Unlike the fast-paced setting of the hospital he had the opportunity to learn about his patients and hear their stories. But sometimes their stories were heartbreaking.

He glanced up at Mrs. Bowman and saw that her eyes were downcast and her face was covered in sadness. It was the look of grief; he knew it all too well. He felt sympathy in his heart for her. She was young, couldn't be more than thirty he guessed, and already a widow. And Flemming was only five and yet she would have to live almost her whole life without her father in it. It was a dreadful prospect for them both and it affected him more than he would have expected. Of course, he'd seen similar situations many times over the course of his life and he knew would see it many more times in the future but he hoped he would never grow immune to it. He'd seen doctors much younger than himself become callused and distant to the cares of their patients but he hoped it was something that would never happen to him.

There was a heavy silence in the room for a minute before he was able to speak. "I'm very sorry to hear that," he said, his words being meant for them both.

Mrs. Bowman was silent and looked away, lost in thought and obviously attempting to remain composed. Flemming started talking again but her voice had lost its joyful excitement. "He was working on the Golden Gate Bridge and there was an accident," she explained.

Henry wasn't sure what to say to this unexpected bit of personal tragedy but after completing his examination he fortunately did have something to say which he was sure would at least bring them some happiness for the day.

"Well, I have some good news for you. Your arm isn't broken, just really bruised, and once I get it in a sling I don't see any reason why it should keep you from doing any fun thing you want to do today." Really, the girl should take it easy but there wasn't enough danger that he felt he should medically advise against them having the fun they'd had planned for the day, especially considering what they'd been through recently.

The reaction to this news confirmed he'd made the right decision. "Oh boy!" Flemming screamed with delight and Mrs. Bowman finally smiled again too.

Henry watched as the two of them embraced. They hugged each other with so much love and enthusiasm it caught him off guard. Mrs. Bowman snuggled Flemming and it was so obvious she adored her daughter that it made his lonely heart ache. It made him wonder what it would be like to feel that kind of love for a person.

 _Maybe I've been alone too long,_ he thought. But he immediately shook it off. What was he thinking? That he could…what? Have a family? That _he_ could ever have a wife or children? Just earlier he had been reminding himself of all the reasons he couldn't even make another friend and now he was indulging himself in thoughts of having a family? No, he would have to remain alone. It was safer that way for everyone. He realized then how much he was staring and, feeling embarrassed, made himself look away.

He chatted with them about Coney Island as he fixed up Flemming's arm. He recommended to them some of his favorite spots and Flemming's excitement grew and grew until, despite an arm in a sling, she was practically dancing her way out the door. Even Mrs. Bowman perked up until the sadness that had been there before had been set aside, if only temporarily. Henry was grateful that he could do his own small part to helping preserve this day of fun for them.

The Bowmans were soon on their way and Henry returned to his office. He sighed and put his head into his hands as he sat down to his desk. He didn't normally connect with his patients quite this much even those who had good personalities and with whom he'd had a good conversation. He was having a hard time accounting for the impression meeting them had made on him. He wasn't quite sure why but there was something about the Bowmans that stuck with him.

Unfortunately, these were the kind of things that reminded him that he was not alright no matter how many times he told himself he was. Watching them had made his melancholy from earlier return with a vengeance. He couldn't help but think about how very long he had lived and how very little he had to show for it. Not the things that mattered anyway. Not in relationships made or in memories made _with_ someone. Since leaving home all those years ago he had spent almost all of that time alone. Hadn't he once promised to make the most of this, his immortality, to see it even as a blessing? But he hadn't kept that promise, not really.

Henry realized then what it was about Flemming and Mrs. Bowman that made such an impression: It was their love for each other that was captivating. He was used to observing parents with their children but a display of such deep affection was rare and hard to forget. It was almost as if their shared loss had made them stronger for each other and it took an uncommon kind of person to react that way to loss.

He remembered how they looked as they left. Despite their recent heartbreak and a vacation that had not gone completely well, they chose for today to be happy. Flemming had looked like she couldn't be any more excited and Mrs. Bowman had looked at her daughter like all was right in the world. It was quite clear that Flemming was her mother's whole heart and if she was happy then so was Mrs. Bowman. Henry couldn't remember that feeling, of loving someone so much they felt like your whole world. Surely, he'd felt it at some time but betrayal and time pasted made it impossible to remember.

Once thing was for certain: He was never going to be alright with being alone. He would never get accustomed to it. Logically, he knew he couldn't allow himself any other reality than one he currently lived but, still, sometimes…he wondered. It hurt so much to see so many wonderful things in the world and know they were forever out of his reach.

Suddenly, he shook his head in frustration with himself. He had had enough self-pity for one day. Flemming and her mother had every reason to despair but they had chosen, at least for today, to be happy. They were taking a break from their grief to spend this day enjoying the thrills Coney Island had to offer. If they could do that then he would not spend the day revisiting his age-old wounds. Maybe his immortality wasn't the only thing that held him back. Maybe it was time for some changes.

At any rate, he could choose to have a better day today. Sometimes he needed to remind himself to appreciate the present, to enjoy exactly what he had and be thankful for today as it was, and not pine over what he wished it could be. Drawing on their inspiration, he smiled as he eyed the paperwork still on his desk; it could wait just a little longer. He threw off his lab coat and headed for the door. It was beautiful day and he was going to go out and enjoy it for a while.

Henry didn't realize it then but this brief meeting would forever change his life. He had no way of knowing it but he had just met the person who would become the very friend he had been longing for for so long. This was the first time that Adaline Bowman and her daughter would make an impact on Henry but it would not be the last.


	3. Chapter 3

**San Fransisco-1954**

 _There's something wrong with me_.

It was a terrible realization to come to and it had been Adaline's constant worry for the past year. She'd been searching for answers ever since that fateful encounter with the policeman, ever since that day she'd finally had to face the truth. She'd realized then what she'd already known deep down for some time: she was not aging anymore. She'd been used to the stares and confusion and the envy from other woman over her 'youthful' appearance but she'd been trying to convince herself she was just aging very gracefully. But facing that officer she knew she could not hide from the truth any longer. Whatever this was could land her in some very danger and she needed to find some answers about what was causing it.

Finding those answers had led her to her current position at the medical college. Her employment there allowed her to make full use of the medical library which she often took advantage of in her spare time. There, she dug up every book and article and resource she could get on aging. She read everything from those sources that were reputable all the way down to those that were questionable but none of them had shed any light on her own situation. In all of her research she had not found even one reported case that was even close to being similar to her own. Nothing she had found in any of her studies had even given her a hint of what may have stopped her aging normally.

At this point she was growing discouraged. Every day she felt less and less hopeful that she would ever get answers to her questions. As her hope drained away she felt herself growing afraid and desperate. That police officer may have been the first one to seriously question her appearance but he would not be the last. Others _would_ follow and eventually they would find out the truth about her. She found herself having nightmares of the things she imagined they would do to her if they knew. After all, agelessness was a thing many people desired and they would do whatever was necessary to discover its cause so they could replicate it. Since she already knew the answers were not to be found in books she knew they would look elsewhere. They would study _her_.

These days she was only comforted by the knowledge that Flemming was away at college. She missed her daughter terribly but until she could find out what was going on and reverse it, it was safer for there to be distance between them. It was good for Flemming to be in a different town with her own separate life. Adaline knew she could never disconnect them completely but at least now maybe there would be the appearance that they were not close. If the unthinkable should happen maybe this perceived detachment would spare Flemming scrutiny and questioning.

Adaline hated that their being seen together in public called so much attention to her problem. It had gotten to the point that everyone who knew them and saw them together now suspected something strange was going on. Even with strangers, Adaline was getting to the place where she hesitated to admit they were mother and daughter, a denial that was terribly painful. All they had right now between them were phone calls and that was not nearly enough. She wanted to _see_ Flemming but she couldn't do it while there was any risk she might be putting her daughter in any danger. This had added even more pressure to her search. The sooner she figured out what was wrong with her the sooner she could be with Flemming again and the sooner life would go back to normal.

Today was a pretty ordinary day at work for Adaline. There was a conference being held this week at the college with several dozen doctors from all over the country in attendance. She had found herself very busy last week helping with preparations for the conference but now that it was underway things for her were slowing down and getting back to normal. Mostly she found her thoughts were on her own personal dilemma today. She had been feeling so depressed lately that she hadn't done any of her own research in over a week. She was contemplating whether or not she should even continue. She was thinking it might be time to admit defeat and learn how to live without the answers she wanted. Maybe a normal life was going to be forever out of her reach.

Her boss came up to her desk and interrupted her bleak thoughts. With him was a man in a white coat, one of the visiting doctors.

"Ms. Bowman this is Dr. Morgan one of our conference attendees. He just arrived in town."

"No thanks to several plane delays and cancellations. I'm not sure I'll ever get use to traveling this way," Dr. Morgan said with a warm smile, despite his obvious frustration.

Adaline found herself staring at him. There was something about him that commanded her attention for some reason that she couldn't identify. It wasn't just that he was good looking (though he _was_ gorgeous); she felt some sort of strange restlessness or urgency around him, like there was something important she had forgotten. And when he had spoken his voice had sounded familiar though she wasn't sure why. It sounded like he had an English accent and she had never known anyone from there before.

She realized all of a sudden that her boss and Dr. Morgan were looking at her expectantly like maybe they had asked a question or were otherwise waiting on a response from her. She blushed when she realized how openly she was gawking at the man and how rude she must seem. She stood up from her desk and forced a smile. "I'm sorry?"

"I was just saying I'm relieved to finally be here. Coming from New York made for a long trip."

"Well, welcome to San Francisco, Dr. Morgan," she said holding out her hand and trying to be polite even while her thoughts were still running.

"Thank you," he said smiling all the wider and shaking her hand. "I've actually never been here before," he remarked like it was a really surprising thought.

Adaline's thoughts were still racing as the three of them made small talk about the conference and the city. Maybe she was taken in because the man was so charming and friendly. Some people were just like that; they had a certain pull about them that just drew people in. And she wouldn't presume to act as though she was beyond being attracted to a good looking man; she wasn't _that_ old yet. Maybe that was all this was. She would have blamed it on either one those two things if it weren't for the fact that she was getting a definite feeling of Deja Vu. She couldn't help feeling she had forgotten something very important. But why should she feel this way? This man just admitted that he'd never been to San Francisco and she'd spent her whole life here or in the surrounding suburbs.

Surprisingly, he must have sensed something familiar about her too. "Have we met before?" he asked, his eyes especially focused on her face.

"No. I don't think we have," she said, as calmly as she could manage. But her hands were starting to shake slightly as she got him a welcome packet and registration form.

Thankfully, he didn't notice this and he didn't press her further. He must be thinking he'd mistaken her for someone else. She was the only one who knew he hadn't.

The pieces had finally fallen into place in her mind. _Doctor. English accent. Warm and friendly personality. New York._ She finally knew now why he seemed so familiar and why at the core of her she felt so unsettled by it.

* * *

Adaline could barely focus on her work for the rest of the day she was so preoccupied with thoughts of Dr. Morgan.

She _had_ to be wrong. There was no way there could be any truth to what she was thinking. Her mind was surely playing tricks on her. The memory she thought she had of him was so long ago and had been so brief there was no way she could actually be remembering _him_. It had to have been someone else. Yet, when she had seen his face her mind had eventually focused back on that brief visit to that New York clinic when Flemming had been a child. She had absolutely no reason for thinking of that day unless the sight of him had triggered it.

But that had been almost 20 years ago. If he were the same man he would be much older. This Dr. Morgan was a young man, too young to have been practicing medicine 20 years ago. Unless…he was struggling with the same thing she was and was a lot older than his appearance suggested. But that was how she knew she must be fooling herself. She had become so obsessed with her search for answers that now she was imagining she'd found someone like her. It was just a little too convenient that at the point where she felt she at the end of her rope another ageless person should just happen to materialize in her front of her. It couldn't be true.

Still, she couldn't deny the excitement she felt as she considered the possibility that Dr. Morgan might have some of the answers she was so desperately seeking. If her memory served her correctly, and he was the same man she had met back then, he looked the same as he had that day in 1937. If that was really true it meant he must be like her and if he was like her he might have some of the answers she longed for. She was sure it was all too crazy to be true but wasn't her own life too crazy to be true? The things that were happening to her were unbelievable and yet they were still true so there was a chance this could be too.

But what if she was wrong? That memory was so long ago how could she be certain? She couldn't and, with a sinking feeling, she knew that unless she was absolutely certain she could never confess such a thing to this stranger. She didn't even know if she could trust him or not. She could only voice her own secret if she knew for a fact that he had the same one. He may very well be just like her and if he were he might have answers but that was just too big a gamble to make. She may be completely wrong and then she'd have blown her cover. She may feel like she was on borrowed time here but at least for the time being she was safe and she wasn't going to throw that away. She knew nothing about Dr. Morgan and it would just have to stay that way.

She convinced herself it was only wishful thinking anyway. She was just lonely and wishing she had someone with which to share this struggle and that was making her grasp at straws. Apparently, she had become so discouraged by her lack of answers that her mind was now constructing a fantasy for her in which a person with all the answers just happened to walk right into her life. But it was ridiculous and she wouldn't allow herself to think this way anymore. She would just have to dust herself off and get back up. She decided to continue her research that night and with a renewed determination. After all, if she was going to get answers she would have to find them; no one was coming to give them to her.

But even with this new resolve she couldn't help but feel she was going to regret letting Dr. Morgan go without speaking to him.

* * *

There was something strange about Ms. Bowman.

When Henry met her earlier he had thought she looked a little familiar but when she denied having met him before he thought he must have been mistaken. It wouldn't be the first time. After living for so many years and meeting so many people all the faces tended to get jumbled in his memory.

He would have forgotten about it entirely if he hadn't run into her a second time. Later in the day he had seen her walking down the hallway towards him. He had been about to smile and wave at her but then he had watched as she had spotted him and then had immediately looked down. She'd kept her gaze determinedly on the ground until she had walked passed him. It was very clear that she hadn't wanted to acknowledge him and wanted it to seem she had not even seen him. She was obviously avoiding him but for what reason? He recalled their brief conversation that morning but he was certain there was no cause for her to be upset or offended by any of his behavior.

He was almost sure now, despite her earlier denial, that they _had_ met before. But why would she lie about it? She could have forgotten they'd met but her determination not to have to speak to him that second time didn't support that. No, she had a reason for not wanting to talk to him and that made him almost certain they'd met before and something about it had upset her. He'd been trying to recall a previous encounter with her all day but without success. He just could not think of where he'd seen her before or what had given her cause for pretending they had not met.

He was at the college late that evening trying to catch up on the first day's work that he'd missed. He shook his head thinking about the hassle he'd had traveling by plane. This relatively new mode of transport was definitely not his preferred method. It seemed to be nothing but a headache.

He had finally finished his work and was heading out when he heard Ms. Bowman's voice. He was surprised she was still at work considering the late hour. He knew he shouldn't but he felt himself stopping to listen at the door to her office when he heard the distressed tone in her voice.

It sounded like she was on the phone with someone. He could only hear half the conversation but the person on the other end must be upset.

"I miss you too, honey," she soothed. "I don't know when I'll be back. I know. I'm trying to fix this. You know I can't come back until I do."

Henry found himself perplexed by this conversation. It only added to mystery surrounding Ms. Bowman and the draw he felt to know more about her. He suddenly felt it was vital he figured out how they had previously met.

She sounded on the verge of tears when she spoke again. "Flemming, _darling_ , it will be alright."

That was the moment it hit him. Hearing that phrase and how it was pierced with intense love and concern made that elusive memory come rushing back to Henry. He had heard this exact phrase before, spoken in this voice, with that same inflection; it was a phrase of comfort from a mother to her daughter. Henry felt a little faint and had to grab at the wall for support as the weight of this information hit him.

No wonder it had taken him so long to place where he had met her. It had been a brief encounter and it had been so very long ago. But that posed a thought that soon had his head quite literally spinning. He had met Ms. Bowman and her young daughter when he'd had his own practice. He couldn't remember exactly what year it had been but he knew it had to be a long time ago; it must have been before the war because that was when he'd quit it and signed up for the service.

But how could that be? That had been so long ago and yet he recognized her. That had been so long ago and yet she still looked the same. How could that be? He knew exactly how it could be. She could look exactly the same as she did back then for the same reason he looked exactly as he did back then. Henry had hoped for a long time he might meet someone like him but he never had. Was it possible that now it was finally happening?

"Sweetheart, you're in college and I want you to enjoy yourself. I don't want you worrying about me. I'm just fine," she said softly and with reassurance.

It was undeniable. He could not mistake that motherly tone; it was the same one he'd heard all those years ago. Ms. Bowman had been so loving and openly affectionate with her daughter and it had made an impression on him then and it did now. Now this woman, this same woman, with this exact same face, had a daughter in college. It was impossible. Unless…

He almost didn't dare hope for it, lest he be disappointed. It was very possible that he was connecting dots that he only _wished_ existed. Maybe she was just aging really well. No, that was a lie. He knew it because he'd used it. How many times had he explained away others' curiosity by crediting his youthful appearance to 'good genes'?

He felt like he couldn't be wrong about this. What reason could he possibly have for recalling that distant memory if the sight of her had not prompted it? There was no other reason he should have thought of that day. He didn't often follow his gut feelings; he couldn't. But sometimes you just had to have a little faith.

In her office Ms. Bowman was wrapping up her conversation. "You know how much I love you, right? Alright. Good. Take good care of yourself and I'll talk to you soon."

Henry knew he had to at least try and see if there was any merit to his suspicions. He had waited so long to have even the chance at this possibility that it made him feel a little reckless.

When he entered the room Ms. Bowman was sitting at her desk with her face in her hands. She was clearly upset and did not hear him approach. He didn't want to startle her so he cleared his throat as quietly as he could to get her attention.

She was still surprised. She looked up quickly and he saw tears in her eyes. He felt briefly guilty for bothering her at such a time but he knew it was now or never. He had to know if this crazy idea he was thinking was right or not and if he didn't do this now he would lose his nerve.

"Dr. Morgan," she greeted, sounding very tired. She quickly brushed her hands across her face and forced a smile as she stood. "I'm sorry I didn't realize anyone else was here. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Is everything alright? You seem upset."

"Oh, it's nothing," she said waving a hand in the air but the distress that was still evident on her face removed any lightness she was trying to convey. He could also see a hint of worry and he could guess at its meaning; she had thought she was alone and now worried he might have overheard something that revealed too much.

"Are you sure?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah. I just got a call from …a friend who's going through a hard time. But she'll be alright. In time."

Ms. Bowman didn't offer any further explanation and Henry let the matter drop.

As he looked at her now it was like he was seeing her with new eyes. Often times he felt that it must be so obvious to others that there was something odd about him. He was sure there must be some physical sign on him that screamed out _immortal_. Of course, there wasn't which he could see for himself now that, for the very first time, he found himself looking at another one. Nobody would be able to tell just by looking at her that there was anything out of the ordinary about Ms. Bowman.

But it was obvious to him because he knew all the subtle signs to look for. He had noticed that slight pause when she'd referred to the person on the other end of the phone as 'a friend.' He could see the hesitation she had felt in sharing any information with him about that conversation. He could see the desperation she felt to conceal anything that might give her away. He had never glimpsed this immortality dilemma from the outside in before but doing so now he felt he could know her thoughts, struggles, and fears. After all, they were the same ones he had.

If there had been any doubt left in his mind at all about whether or not she shared his affliction it would have been gone the second he glanced down at the materials on her desk. There were several books opened up and papers all over her desk and every one in sight had something to do with aging. It was almost like he was looking back at one of his own memories. How many times over the years had he thrown himself into this very same research? He knew it then that Ms. Bowman was trying to figure out why she wasn't aging anymore. He had never known what it was like to feel someone understood what he went through but in this moment he a felt slight connection of understanding between them.

She saw where his gaze had landed and started to slowly close the books and clear up her stuff in a way that suggested she was trying not to be obvious about it. A heavy awkwardness fell between since neither had spoken for several moments and she very clearly wished he was not there.

"Interesting subject matter," he found himself blurting out boldly pointing to the very information she was trying to conceal. He felt a desperate eagerness to begin a conversation with her about this. "It seems a strange thing to have you researching."

"Oh, it's not for work. It's just a personal curiosity."

"You're here at almost 9:00 in the evening; that doesn't sound like a casual interest."

"It's really not a big deal," she said, starting to sound a little irritated. "I just prefer to work when it's quiet. When there's nobody here." She added the last bit with emphasis.

"Seeking eternal youth?"

She laughed but it was humorless. "Not at all."

He recognized it for what it was; it was the response of a person who did not want it because they already had it. She was on a search _out_ of it; not towards it. He could also see he was making her uncomfortable. He had meant to be drawing her out with his questions but maybe he was coming on too strong. She was already starting to shut down and since he knew exactly what it felt like to be scared in the way she was right now he hurried to try and put her at ease.

"It is a subject that I've studied quite extensively myself over the years," he said giving her a very loaded look in an attempt to subtly show his hand a bit.

This seemed to make a slight impact on her. She seemed to understand his meaning. Or at the very least she didn't still feel threatened by him. He tried to see if there was any recognition at all in her expression. Did she not remember that they had met before? Could she not see that they were alike?

"Have you made any interesting discoveries?" she asked. He could tell she was trying to sound casual but he could hear the hope in her voice.

"Unfortunately, I haven't. Not the one I want the most anyway."

She was silent for a moment taking that in. "That's too bad," she said looking cautious.

"It is discouraging at times but I'm still looking," he said positively. She nodded her head in understanding.

Henry could practically feel the electricity between them. They were so close to admitting the truth. He had no doubt about her any more they just had to admit it to each other.

"Earlier it seemed like you were familiar to me. Are you sure we haven't met before?" he asked.

She averted her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

Henry felt himself almost growing frantic as she continued to refuse. He had waited so many years for something like this to happen. Well over 100 years he'd been like this and alone. He wanted so much to be able to share this with someone who could understand.

But he wasn't surprised by her reluctance. He didn't blame her at all for being so cautious. When you had a secret like this you guarded it fiercely. Only a monumental event could challenge such a vow of secrecy. Of course, a logical solution to this problem was for him to admit first that he was immortal and let her follow. But, unfortunately, he knew himself far too well to believe he would do that. Keeping his secret was too deeply ingrained in him that he could not force the words out. He didn't tell anyone unless he _had_ to tell them.

"You've never been to New York City before?" he asked.

"I haven't."

He knew that must be a lie. Did she not realize what this could mean for them? It occurred to him then that she might be refusing not because she didn't understand or was afraid but because she just didn't want it. Even if they were both the same maybe she wasn't looking for a confidant like he was. He had been so eager to speak with her he hadn't even thought she might not feel the same. It was heartbreaking to think that she might not want to know him even if she knew they were alike.

"Are you _sure_ we haven't met before?" he asked one last time. He was begging at this point he knew but he tried as hard as he could to imply in his tone that he was certain they had met so she would feel comfortable admitting it. If only she said 'yes' he knew he could take the leap and say the rest. He wished he was the kind of man that had the courage to just come out and say it without having to rely on her to take the first step. But, sadly, he knew he was not that man.

She wouldn't look at him when she finally gave her answer. "I'm quite sure we have never met before and I beg you to please not ask me again."

He knew he was being dismissed. Her voice was steady and determined but underneath he could hear she was afraid. He knew that fear all too well and he wouldn't torment her any further. It had been unfair of him to lay the responsibility of this on her anyway. He already felt the self-loathing coming on for being such a coward when so much was on the line.

As a last ditch effort he found himself doing something he never did. He reached for a pen and a piece of paper and wrote his name and phone number on it. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding and for taking up so much of your time. This is my home number. If you change your mind and decide you want to talk about…anything, please give me a call." With that he turned and left her.

Henry avoided her for the rest of the conference. He was sure she was doing her best to avoid him as well because they never once crossed paths again after that night. Both of them second-guessed themselves over the next few days wondering if they had made the right choice by staying silent but neither one did anything about it. After a few days Henry left San Francisco and even though he had left her his number he had no hope she would use it. He wouldn't if the tables were reversed. He was convinced he'd never hear from Ms. Bowman again and he determined to put her and his disappointment out of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**New York-1954**

Henry stared up at the ceiling. It was very early in the morning but he was wide awake. Like many nights recently he found he hadn't slept well because of all that was on his mind.

It had been almost two weeks since he had met Ms. Bowman but he still couldn't get the encounter out of his mind. Really, he should say it had been two weeks since he had met her _again_ because he was still sure that he had met her once before, a long time ago. With a frustrated sigh, he admitted to himself that his certainty mattered very little though because they had both been unable to admit to each other what they both were. He kicked himself now for his fear and all it had cost him.

He had really wanted it to be true. He knew that was why he couldn't manage to get her out of his mind. Almost since the beginning he had wanted to meet someone like him. He had never known if it was even a possibility but he had wished for it many times over the years. He had wanted someone who could actually know what he went through because they went through it too.

In a way, he felt disloyal still wanting that. Right now he had more than he had ever dreamed he would be allowed given his situation. With Abigail and Abe in his life he was happier than he had ever been. But the idea that he might have found someone with a condition like his had stirred up a different longing in him. In all the ways that Abigail was helpful and supportive and all the ways Henry was sure Abe would be one day when he knew the truth they still would never really understand the trials he went through. He didn't really want them to be able to either. He wanted to to share what he went through but he also desperately wanted to spare them the pain of what he endured. With a friend who was like him he wouldn't have to worry about that; they would already know.

As he lay in bed thinking about all of this he thought he heard a noise but was sure he must have imagined it considering the early hour. But a minute later he heard it again, a knock, at their front door. He got out of bed wondering who could possibly be visiting at this time.

When he opened the door he thought that his imagination must have completely taken over.

"Ms. Bowman?" he said in surprise.

He was stunned to find it really was her standing in front of him though her appearance was quite altered from the last time he had seen her. Her clothes were terribly wrinkled and her hair was wavy and frizzy like she had been soaked through even though she was dry now. There was still a bit of smeared mascara under her eyes and she was shaking slightly. "Are you…?" He had been meaning to ask her if she was alright but she very clearly was not. Something was terribly wrong.

"Dr. Morgan, I'm sorry to just come here like this. But I didn't know what else to do."

She seemed to grow more worried as he stared at her but he was still trying to overcome his shock at seeing her again.

"You said I could call you if I changed my mind, if I wanted to talk," she continued, hesitantly when he didn't speak. "I know I should have called before just showing up here…but I need help."

The desperation and hint of tears in her voice finally got his attention and he remembered his manners. "Of course. Of course, come in," he said shaking his head to clear the confusion he felt and motioning for her to come inside.

She followed him into the living room. She had a suitcase with her which she sat down on the floor as she sat on the couch. He found himself nervous and unsure of what to say as he sat in the chair opposite her. What could possibly be going on?

She was clearly nervous too and she brushed her clothes and hair with her hands trying to look neater though it didn't really work.

"Ms. Bowman…" Henry started, struggling with the best way to voice his swirling thoughts.

"Please, call me Adaline."

"Thank you, Adaline. And you may call me Henry. What's happened? Are you alright?"

She started to cry and shook her head. "No. No, I'm not. They found out about me. They're after me."

"Who's after you?"

"The FBI. They found out what I am."

"What…you…are?" he asked slowly, the words heavy and drawn out with expectation.

She looked directly in his eyes and hers said it all; he _had_ been right about her.

Henry took a deep breath trying to calm himself. He felt such a strong rush of emotions he could scarcely identify all he felt. "You mentioned changing your mind about what I said. Have…have you?" he asked. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest in excitement and nervousness.

"Yes," she replied simply though the significance of this single word for both of them was great. "I know what you were trying to get me to say that day at the medical college. I know you were trying to get me to admit that we _had_ met before. All the research I was doing on aging…you know what it means?"

"You're not aging anymore," he said.

"And neither are you."

It was finally out in the open though they had come about it in a roundabout way. Henry was nearly shaking with the unbelievably of the conversation he was having. "We did meet before. A long time ago. You came to my clinic with your daughter."

Adaline was crying again as she nodded her head. "So, you are like me?" she asked hopefully.

"I believe so."

Henry could hardly believe it. He felt both the impulse to cry and laugh and he found himself doing a little of both. Adaline was like him!

"I'm sorry," he said knowing he must be a sight. "I just…I've never met anyone else like myself. I've waited for this for so long I thought it was never going to happen."

"How long have you…how long has it been since you stopped aging?"

He blew out a breath as he calculated the years. "Oh, I guess it's been about 140 years."

Adaline looked shocked by this answer. "So, you're how old?"

"175," he said and was surprised by the ease with which he stated it.

"Oh, wow," she said shaking her head and looking a little overwhelmed by this information. "Wow."

"I take it from your surprise you're a bit newer to this?" he said with a slight smile.

"Yes," she said nodding and returning it. "I only just figured it out."

This confused Henry a bit. How could there have been any doubt for her as to her condition? One death and a subsequent awakening naked in a nearby body of water was pretty definitive proof that things had changed dramatically. Still, he had no idea what her story was. He would admit his introduction to immortality had been a pretty dramatic one and it would be logical to assume that hers had maybe not been as intense.

"So, how old are you?" he asked.

"46. I've been noticing for a long while that people have been looking strangely at me, especially when I've been with Flemming, my daughter. She's in college now so the lack of age between us really shows. People have made comments for a long time but in the past couple of years those remarks have been less complementary and more suspicious."

"But," he asked, confused, "didn't you figure out something was different after the accident?"

"The accident?"

"Or illness or whatever it was. You know, the thing that started this all."

Adaline thought for a moment and then a light clearly went off in her head. "You think the accident had something to do with this?" she asked.

Henry shrugged since he didn't really know what accident she was talking about it. But whatever she was remembering was clearly helping her to put pieces together. "That would make sense. I had the accident when I was 29 and that is about how old I appear to be now." She was talking out loud but she seemed to be speaking to herself. "I never really thought the two were linked but maybe they are. I nearly died that night."

Henry had just been about to ask what she meant when Abigail appeared in the doorway, looking confused at Henry's frazzled guest. "Henry, what's going to on?" she asked sleepily.

"Abigail," he said rising as she came over towards them. He was nearly bursting with excitement as he got ready to tell her what had happened. "This is Adaline Bowman. I met her at that conference I went to a couple of weeks ago. She works at the medical college in San Francisco. She…she shares my condition."

"What?" Abigail's eyes widened in surprise as she looked Henry and then back at Adaline. "Really?"

Adaline looked embarrassed over her messy appearance as she stood and held out a hand to Abigail. "It's nice to meet you."

Abigail shook it with the same look of shock Henry was sure he had been wearing when he'd opened the door to find Adaline there. "You…too. Nice to meet…you," Abigail said staring at Adaline in complete surprise.

"I'm sorry I just showed up here like this. I didn't tell Henry I was coming. I apologize; it was inconsiderate of me to do."

"No, not at all," Abigail said shaking her head and coming to her senses. "This is a wonderful thing." She smiled. "Of course you're welcome here. Would you…like something to drink?" she asked for lack of anything else to say. "Maybe some coffee? _I_ need some coffee."

Adaline smiled. "Some coffee would be lovely. Thank you."

A few minutes later Abigail returned with a tray of coffee. She also handed Adaline a blanket which she took gratefully and wrapped around her shoulders. Abigail was so thoughtful. Henry hadn't even thought to offer Adaline something to drink or a blanket even though she was clearly benefiting from both.

Abigail sat on the couch beside Adaline and it was clear she was trying, but failing, not to stare. "I apologize for my manners," Abigail said. "It's just…Henry's never met anyone who's like him before. This is very surprising."

"Don't worry," Adaline said. "It is for us too. We just admitted it to ourselves. We were both in a state of denial when we met in San Francisco."

Henry and Adaline related to Abigail how they had met two weeks ago when Henry was in San Francisco and how they had both been almost certain they'd met before but had been unable to admit it to each other. They told her of how they'd known the other wasn't aging because of that long ago first meeting.

Abigail was surprised but not new to this sort of thing so she took it all in stride. Henry was relieved to see that it was happy surprise she felt and glad to know Abigail shared his joy over finding this new friend. But when Abigail asked Adaline what had brought her to New York now Adaline's expression became distressed again.

"I'm in trouble," she admitted. "And I hoped Henry might be able to help. This is all so new to me but I hoped maybe you would know what I should do," she said looking at Henry.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It started about a year ago when I got pulled over for speeding of all things. When the cop looked at my license and saw my date of birth and compared it to my face he thought it was fake. He couldn't believe I was as old as I said I was. He took my license and told me to show up at the station with my birth certificate. I knew I was in trouble then and couldn't avoid the truth any longer. I left town.

"I've been studying at the medical college but I haven't found any scientific explanation as to what's wrong with me. Then yesterday, a few men showed up from the FBI. They took me and said they…wanted to run some tests on me."

Henry felt a shiver run through him as she related her story. It was one of his worst nightmares. Somehow he had managed to avoid such a close call as this but it was a constant fear in the back of his mind. But she was so much younger than him; how had this happened to her already?

He found himself very impressed, despite the horror of the situation, when Adaline shared how she had escaped custody by pulling out the back seat of the car she was in and escaping through the trunk. Adaline may have been significantly younger than he was and much newer to this life but he could obviously learn a few things from her.

Adaline was still visibly shaken by the previous night's events. Her hands shook as she held them in her lap. "I'll have to start over somewhere new. I won't be able to use my name anymore," she said sadly. "I-"

"Mom?"

Everyone in the room was startled by the young voice coming from the entrance to the room. Abe stood in the doorway still in his pajamas, looking sleepy and confused. "Hi, sweetie. Come here," Abigail said beckoning Abe.

Abe came over and stood beside her looking curiously at their visitor. "Abraham, this is a new friend of ours. Her name is Adaline."

"Nice to meet you, Abraham," Adaline said with a smile.

"Nice to meet you," Abe replied politely.

Abigail turned to him again. "Why don't you go in the kitchen and have some cereal for breakfast?"

Abe nodded his head and left to get ready for the day though he still looked very confused about why his parents had a visitor so early in the morning. Henry knew he would have to explain things to Abe later. Or explain as much as he could to someone so young who still didn't even know the truth about his own father yet.

Adaline looked thoughtful as Abe left the room. "How old is he?"

"He's almost 10," Abigail said with a smile.

"Does he know?" Adaline asked, looking at Henry.

"No. Not yet."

"I had to leave Flemming," Adaline remarked sadly. "I can't even tell anyone she's my daughter anymore. I told her she would have to tell people I'm a _friend_ of hers."

"Flemming, that's your daughter's name?" Abigail asked.

"Yes."

"Do you have a picture of her?"

Adaline nodded her head and reached inside her purse. She pulled out a picture and showed it to Abigail with a pride that could not be mistaken as anything but that of a mother.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Abigail said with a smile.

Adaline smiled as she gazed at the photo. "She's all grown up of course. She doesn't really need me anymore."

"She will _always_ need you; you're her mother," Abigail said, encouragingly. "But she is old enough to be able to take care of herself while you're gone."

Abigail always had the perfect words to say to people. She had such an ease with people that always escaped Henry. He cared deeply about people but there always seemed to be a disconnect between what he felt in his heart and how that translated into his actions.

He was also becoming troubled. What was happening to Adaline and Flemming would one day happen to him. It hadn't really sunk in that because of his condition he would not always be able to claim Abe as his own. The realization broke his heart.

Henry felt sympathy for Adaline having to go at this alone. Her daughter was the only person she had in this world and she'd had to leave even her behind. It was hard to remember the days he'd spent alone though they had far outweighed the ones he'd spent with his family. He didn't like to think about that past or about the possibility that his current happiness would not be lasting.

"I didn't tell her where I was going. I figured it was safer that way. I told her to tell anyone who asked that I'd gone to Europe on vacation and never returned. Oh, do you think I did the right thing?" Adaline asked growing worried. "Do you think they'll come after her?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Abigail said in a reassuring tone as she wrapped an arm around Adaline's shoulders. But Henry had to wonder. If they knew what Adaline was what lengths would they go to to reach her? Was her daughter really safe? Wasn't that the first place they would go to find her?

Henry grew angry over what had been done to Adaline. He had only just found her, someone like him, and he was angry that someone would attempt to dissect and study her. He was even angrier over the very real threat against her daughter. Maybe Adaline had been alone before but she wasn't alone now. She had reached out to him and he would do anything in his power to make certain that she and her daughter would be safe.

"We'll take care of this," he said with a sudden certainty. "I know of someone that can get you a new identity and papers. We'll find somewhere for you to start over. You're going to fine."

For the first time, encouraged by Abigail's and Henry's words, Adaline looked like she might believe it actually would be alright.

* * *

Later that day, Henry found himself quite literally looking over his shoulder as he walked back to his apartment. He knew it was unlikely he was being followed but he just couldn't help but feel someone was watching him. Even if the authorities knew Adaline had come to New York no one knew that she knew Henry. But everyone he passed on the streets still looked suspicious to him.

He tried to walk casually but the knowledge of what he was carrying in his briefcase weighed on him. Inside was a new identity for Adaline and all the papers she would need to support it. He trusted the documents since he had used this same man to provide him with his own false papers in the past; he knew that no one would question them. Still, after all these years, going to a person of questionable morals in order to evade the law never got any easier for him. He would never stop feeling guilty about it or worrying he would eventually be found out.

Henry hated lies and deception despite their necessary presence in his life. None were quite as troublesome as those that were close to home, like the ones he had with Abe. He'd had a talk with Abe this morning as he had walked him to school. He had told Abe that Adaline was trying to get away from some bad people who wanted to harm her and that she needed their help to get to someplace that would be safe for her. Abe seemed to understand; after all, even at his young age picking up and leaving town with little warning was, unfortunately, not a new concept for him. Henry could see that he knew there was more to the story than he was being told just as he often knew there was more to Henry's story than what was explained to him. But Abe also had a tender and kind heart and he was sympathetic to wanting Adaline to be safe and hadn't pressed Henry for more information.

One day Abe would know the whole truth and Henry was dreading that day. He wished he would always be able to shield Abe from the harsh realities of an immortal's life as he could today.

When Henry arrived back home Abigail came out of their bedroom and greeted him. "How's everything going?" he asked, after he had given her a kiss.

"Everything's fine. We're almost done packing."

This morning Abigail had helped Adaline dye her hair brown in an attempt to alter her appearance. They had also decided to send Adaline off with one of their suitcases and some of Abigail's clothes. This was probably overkill but Henry had learned over the years that when it came to these kinds of situations more caution than was necessary was always better than not enough. This was a closer call than he had ever experienced himself and he was taking no chances. Adaline would only be taking with her those items that were irreplaceable, like her photos and other sentimental keepsakes. Unfortunately, these would be the most condemning items if they were to be found but he knew that sacrificing such treasures were not worth the added security; they desired to survive but not at such a cost to their humanity. After she was gone her clothes along with all her personal documents would be burned and all traces that she had been there would be removed.

The thought made him sad. After so many years of waiting and wishing he'd meet another immortal he finally had only to have to send her away the very same day they'd found each other. He knew this was necessary for everyone's safety but he wanted nothing more than to sit and talk to her. He had so many questions. He had so many things he wanted to share.

"How did things go for you?" Abigail asked.

"I got everything she needs. Her bus leaves in a couple of hours."

Abigail noticed the sad tone in his voice. "What is it?" she asked coming closer and putting a hand on his arm.

"I know she has to go but I just wish I had a little bit more time to get to know her."

"You will. You just have to wait until after the dust settles. Then, you'll have all the time in the world," she said with a teasing smile.

He smiled at her and drew her close. He was so lucky to have her. She loved him despite what he was and she understood him so well. She knew how important it was to him to find someone like him even though he hadn't ever really said and she was happy for him. He was a very fortunate man indeed.

* * *

Henry walked slowly but steady with Abigail on his arm and a few steps ahead of them Adaline walked with Abe holding his hand. They were all doing their best to blend in and look inconspicuous. They walked as a group hoping it would better conceal Adaline who was now wearing an old-fashioned hat that set low on her head and a very plain dress to make sure she wouldn't stand out in any way. But Henry could still feel the tension among their group and hoped it didn't show.

The bus station was busy this afternoon and Henry found his eyes darting feverishly around for anyone who might be watching them, who might be looking for Adaline. He had done his best to reassure her that everything would be fine but secretly he was very worried. The FBI would be able to track her to New York and she wouldn't be safe until she had left town and assumed a different identity. He wouldn't rest until she was away and living her new life.

Adaline stopped and turned to face Henry and Abigail before boarding the waiting bus. She took a deep breath and forced a smile but it looked strained and slightly painful.

Abigail gave her a warm smile in return. "You'll contact us once you get settled, won't you? Once it's safe?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," Adaline agreed quietly. Her face was pale and her knuckles were white around the handle of her suitcase. "I…I just can't thank you both for all you've done. I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"It was our pleasure," Abigail said sincerely. "We've all got to stick together in this."

Henry loved Abigail for her encouragement and positivity in this moment. She reached out and gave Adaline a long hug. Henry found himself becoming more emotional about Adaline's departure than he had expected given that they had just met. But that was the problem; he'd only just met her and now she had to go. He knew she had to leave for her own safety and the sooner the better but he longed to have at least a little bit longer with her.

Abigail seemed to sense they needed a moment alone and she took Abe and excused them. Now it was only Henry and Adaline and he felt almost shy. He struggled to decide what he wanted to say before she left. What could he say in such a short time?

"It's a nice town from what I hear," he said, breaking the silence and trying to do what he could put a positive spin on the situation. "It's quiet and settled but busy enough I don't think you'll become too bored."

"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted. She looked terrified and there were tears in her eyes. His heart broke for her; she looked so alone standing there, her head hung and holding on to her suitcase like it was life raft. He wished for her sake she didn't have to do this alone but given how things had gone for him right after he found out about his immortality he wondered if alone was the only way it could be done. He was so blessed to have Abigail and Abe now but he had spent a lot of time on his own and he feared Adaline would have to do the same.

It was a strange sensation to feel he had experience in this. When it came to his condition he felt like he was always lost and confused, always searching for answers and making things up as he went. But he had been where Adaline was now. It felt good that what he had gone through might be a help to her now. When he had found out about his secret he truly had been alone but at least Adaline had him. Things would still be difficult for her but he would endeavor to be as much help as he could be for her.

He put his hands on her shoulders trying to be comforting and get her attention. "Listen, I know this is scary but you're going to be alright. I really believe that. I've been doing this a _long_ time and I've had some close calls. But I got through them and so will you."

"It just feels so overwhelming."

"I know but this is what it all boils down to: Make wise choices. Be aware of what's going on around you. Be cautious of what you do and say and careful about who you let in. Do all of that and you'll be just fine."

She looked at him and made a brave attempt at smiling. She nodded her head like she believed him even though he knew she still had doubts and wasn't feeling confident.

"And remember," he added. "You're not alone in this. We're here for you. Please, if you have any questions or you need anything at all let me know. Don't be a stranger," he said with smile.

She smiled genuinely this time. "Thanks Henry."

He reached out and gave her hug. He closed his eyes and held on and it was only the announcement over the intercom that her bus about to depart that forced him to finally let go.

Adaline got on the bus and Abigail and Abe joined Henry as they all waved goodbye to her. As it pulled away Adaline Bowman disappeared from existence except for in the minds of her daughter in California and her three new friends in New York who knew the truth.

"You think she'll be alright?" Abigail whispered to Henry.

"I really do." Henry was almost certain of it. He'd known her only briefly but he could tell she had a good head on her shoulders. She was clearly smart and she seemed strong. It wouldn't always be easy. In fact, it would rarely be easy. But as someone who had gone through this already he knew that she would make it because she _had_ to make it. Immortality did not remove that strong human instinct to do everything necessary to survive and that drive would pull her through the worst times.

Henry walked over to Abe who was staring into the distance where Adaline's bus had disappeared. He rested his hand on Abe's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

"It was nice of you to let her hold your hand." He knew it mustn't have been easy considering Abe was in the stage where he was doing everything he could to prove he wasn't a 'little kid' anymore.

"She looked like she needed it," Abe replied simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"Abe," Henry began uncomfortably. "You understand that you can't tell anyone she was here, right? Not a single person can know. No one at school or any of your friends. She would be in a lot of trouble if someone found out. Me and Mom probably would be too."

Guilt twisted up in Henry's stomach. It felt so _wrong_. Teaching his son to lie, to keep secrets, to not trust authority seemed to go against all his strong paternal instincts. He hated doing it. He always had. But it was necessary to keep them together as a family. Now it would also be necessary to preserve their friendship with Adaline. He didn't regret what they had done for her but, as always, he regretted the deception that came along with it.

Abe looked at him. He was giving Henry _that_ look. "Of course I do. I'm not going to tell anyone," he said sounding very determined and mature and acting as though Henry was insulting his intelligence by even asking the question.

"Of course," Henry said smiling and nodding his head; Abe really did understand. He understood much more than most children his age would. He knew far more than any child his age _should_. He didn't yet know Henry's secret but he did know that there was something different about is father than others. He knew it was the reason that they'd already moved a couple of times and the reason he had to be careful about how much he told others about his home life. Henry already hated the amount of secrecy and isolation that existed in Abe's life and he knew it would only get worse as time went on and Abe learned the whole truth.

Henry thought about Adaline and her daughter. It pained him to think that one day he would find himself in the same position as Adaline. One day, when Abe was man, Henry wouldn't be able to tell anyone that Abe was his son. He already dreaded having to tell Abe that they would have to tell others they were friends as Adaline had just had to do with Flemming. Of all the secrets he kept and the lies he told Henry already knew that would be the one he'd hate the most.

"Do you think we'll see her again?"

Abe's voice brought Henry out of his worried thoughts about the future. "I hope so."

"Me too," Abe agreed.

Given everything Adaline had just been through and the hard journey that was ahead of her it hardly seemed decent to be happy but Henry was undeniably happy. He felt that he had just met someone who was going to become very important and dear to him and he looked forward to getting to know her better. He hoped the future would provide many more opportunities for them to meet again.


	5. Chapter 5

**TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts**

 **New York-1985**

Over the years Henry and Adaline's friendship remained and grew. They visited each other when they could. They wrote letters and made phone calls when they couldn't. They began their relationship with an almost fevered enthusiasm. After being alone with their secrets for years they had finally found someone who could truly understand them. They could relate to each other in ways they couldn't with anyone else. Henry especially, after over a century alone, felt he would never catch up on all he wanted to say and Adaline was more than willing to listen and learn all she could from his experience.

It hadn't taken them long to realize that the conditions they had were most likely different but that didn't keep them from still having a lot in common. They each continued their research and shared their findings with each other. They had yet to find anything that answered any of their many questions but just having each other to share the quest with made all the dead ends seem not so bad anymore. They had shared many good and bad times together over the years.

Today was going to be one of the bad ones.

Adaline had come as soon as she'd gotten Abe's call. He'd been nearly inconsolable by the time he'd finally reached out to her and told her that Abigail had left and Henry had lost it. Adaline had been shocked to hear this had been going on for a year but she couldn't say the news itself was a surprise. Poor Abe had reached the end of his rope and was desperate for her help. She had reassured him that she would be there as soon as possible and would do everything she could to help. He was relieved, saying he'd done what he could think of and had only made things worse. But they both knew that she could relate to Henry in a way no one else could. She only hoped it wasn't too late.

As she stood on Henry's doorstep she hesitated before knocking and going in. She had no idea what would be waiting for her on the other side. From what Abe had told her, Henry was in a very bad state, worse than any she'd ever seen before. She wondered, not for the first time, why it had been so long before she had been told what was happening. Why had Abe waited so long to reach out to her? More importantly, why hadn't Henry called her himself? They were best friends and had been through so much together over the past 30 years. And yet, Henry had been going through the worst experience of his life for more than a year now and he hadn't sought out her help or support.

It hurt that he hadn't told her about this. Henry and Abigail had been the first people she had sought out when she had decided to end things with William. In fact, they had even let her stay with them for a while during that difficult time. Their support had been invaluable to her and being with them had helped heal what she had felt at the time was a heart too broken to be mended. Because of them she had been able to move on after that loss. She had loved William and had wanted to marry him and Henry and Abigail had been the only ones that could understand why she couldn't allow herself to do that.

Unfortunately, Adaline would have to admit she had seen this coming for a long time. Adaline knew that Henry had eyes for no one but Abigail. It had always been obvious how painfully he was in love with her. She had watched them through the years and she could see that his complete adoration of Abigail had never changed or failed through the years that had altered Abigail's appearance. She knew that Henry had never stopped loving Abigail.

But as a woman herself, Adaline could understand things that Henry could not. She could appreciate the insecurity that Abigail had felt with the appearance of wrinkles and gray hairs. She noticed the embarrassment that Abigail felt when her and Henry were out in public, when she noticed the stares of strangers who were surely judging their relationship. Adaline hadn't had to struggle with the effects of aging but as a woman she knew how important looks and beauty were. Lots of women may deny the importance of such things but they all felt it.

Henry couldn't understand that. He loved Abigail regardless of her appearance. He reassured her of that constantly and he thought it was enough. He didn't care what other people thought about them and he felt she shouldn't either. Still, Adaline was confused about Abigail's decision to leave because she had always been sure that Abigail still loved Henry too. In the end, Adaline wasn't sure that there was anything Henry could have done to make Abigail.

Adaline had failed in this too. Even though she was a woman and could better understand Abigail's feelings about growing older, she still couldn't understand completely. Adaline would always be 29 so she couldn't relate to Abigail anymore. Over the years she had noticed that things were changing between her and Abigail as well. While Henry had been trying to save his relationship with Abigail, Adaline had been struggling to save her own. It must have been terrible for Abigail to not only have her husband remain young while she got old but to also have one of her best friends remain unchanged by the years. Adaline understood it was painful for Abigail but it had been hard for her too. There was nothing to she could do to start herself aging again and it broke her heart to feel herself losing one of her best friends because of something she couldn't change.

Henry and Adaline's approaches to Abigail had been different. Henry had missed or ignored a lot of the signs but Adaline had acknowledged them all for a long time. But the end result of both was the same; Abigail was gone and neither one of them had been able to make her stay.

Adaline had expected this day for a while but she was still ill-prepared for it. With a looming sense of dread she knocked on door. She tried that several times with no answer before she used her key to let herself in. The house smelled stale and musty like no one had lived in it for a while which she supposed, in a way, no one had. It was dark even though it was the middle of the day because all the blinds were drawn shut and no lights were turned on.

"Henry?" she called out. She was afraid of the state she would find him in, reassured only by the fact that he couldn't do the unthinkable. Or, at least, he couldn't do it and still remain here.

"Henry?" she called out again, making her way to the living room. Abe had told her that was where Henry spent most of his time these days, even eating and sleeping there, though now that Abe had removed Henry's creepy evidence board and all his research there was no way of knowing if that would still be the case.

Even though he hadn't answered her when she'd called out that's where she found him lying on the couch, stoic and unresponsive. He looked terrible. She had always known Henry to be a man who took pride in a good appearance and it was unnerving to see him so unkempt. His pants and shirt were wrinkled and even from a distance they looked like they had been worn too many times. His hair was longer than he normally kept it and he looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks. But it wasn't any of those things that bothered her the most; it was his eyes. He stared off in the distance like he wasn't even there. She was certain that he hadn't even heard calling or saw her standing there.

She had been worried about scaring him with her sudden appearance but he looked so numb she was now afraid she wouldn't be able to get a response from him at all. She walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm as she bent down to speak to him. "Henry."

It still took a couple of seconds but a look of recognition finally appeared on his face. "Adaline?" he asked looking very confused to see her.

"Hi Henry."

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Abe called me."

Understanding passed over his face and then annoyance. "Oh," he said sounding displeased. Henry was clearly still angry at Abe.

She squeezed his arm to give him a nudge and he sat up so she could sit down on the couch next to him. Up close she could tell how skinny he was and she wondered just how little he was eating these days. She could also tell he hadn't had a shower in a while. It broke her heart to see how deeply the depression had taken hold on him. Grief had so altered the friend she knew.

"He shouldn't have bothered you," Henry said rubbing his eyes like he was trying to wake up.

"He didn't bother me. Hearing from him or you is never unwanted or inconvenient," she stressed since apparently it needed saying. "He's worried about you."

Henry only shook his head and gave a skeptical grunt like he did not believe that. It bothered her to see that he doubted it; Henry had never questioned Abe's feelings about him before. "Henry, Abe loves you. You know that."

"He has had a funny way of showing it as of late."

She knew he was talking about the incident where Abe had thrown out Henry's research on Abigail. She could understand how that would upset Henry but she didn't want him to push Abe away either. He needed him. "He's having a hard time. He's trying to help but he doesn't know how. His heart was in the right place."

"Did you come here just to take his side?" He could have said it in anger but instead it sounded as though he might cry.

"Of course not. I care about _both_ of you." She reached out and took his hand. "Henry, why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

Henry hung his head and it was a long time before he spoke. "I…it's just temporary. I didn't feel you needed to know."

"We're best friends. You can tell me anything. I wished you had told me you were hurting."

He whipped his head around quickly to look at her. "She _will_ be back," he said intensely.

Adaline wanted to agree because she knew that was what Henry wanted. But Abigail wouldn't be back and they both knew it. He clearly sensed she didn't believe it and it was almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. Abe had said Henry was in denial and Adaline could see that now for herself. But she also sensed he was close to admitting the truth. She could see he didn't really believe what he had just said either.

But she didn't want to make it worse by forcing him to make an admission. She wanted him to come to the truth in his own time. At a loss for what to say she wrapped her arm around him but he still knew. They always had been like that after all. They were such close confidants that they often didn't even have to say what they were thinking or feeling to get the point across. In her touch alone he could feel her doubt.

He looked hurt and maybe a little angry. He pulled away from her and stood up and started pacing the room before he spoke.

"O.K. fine. You want the truth? I was _embarrassed_. I didn't want to tell you that she had left. I didn't want to say…how could I say…"

"Say what?" she asked quietly.

"My wife left me," he said with a sob and she realized it must be the first time he'd ever said it. "My wife left me! Happy now?"

Of course she wasn't happy but she was relieved that he had finally admitted the truth of what was going on. Abe had said for a year Henry had kept saying that Abigail would be back. Now that he was no longer in denial he could begin the healing process.

Henry was crying and Adaline felt tears in her own eyes as she watched him. She wished he would come back and sit with her so she could comfort him. Physical comfort had been the very reason she had come; it was the thing she couldn't do for him at a distance. In those painful weeks and months after William it had been the only thing that had helped her feel better at all. There were really no words that could be said that would help in a situation like this but having someone hold you while you fell apart really made all the difference. She had wanted to do that for him like he had done it for her all those years ago.

Also, she wanted to share the grief with him. She felt the loss of Abigail too. She knew it was nowhere even remotely close to the depth he did but she was still hurting. She wanted to mourn with him the loss of her friend. For so long she had felt Abigail slowly slipping through her fingers but now she also had to face the facts: her friendship with Abigail was over and she would never see her again.

Henry stood across from her and cried with his face buried in his hands. He looked the most pitiful she had ever seen him but she would wait until he came back to reach out to him since he had gotten up to get away from her. But he didn't come back. Even when he stopped crying he just stood there looking back at her to the point that she began to feel uneasy. She had wanted to help him face his new painful reality but she had also wanted to help him through it. He had admitted the truth of his situation but now the look on his face was a hard one, not one ready to accept comfort.

Finally, she was forced to speak. "I'm sorry. I know this must be terrible for you."

"No, you don't. How could you? Me and Abigail were together for forty years. _Forty years_ ," he stressed. "And now, she's left me. Have you ever had the love of your life, your companion for four decades, decide she doesn't love you anymore and never wants to see you again?"

It really did sound so terrible when he put it that way. She had feared not being able to say the right thing and obviously she hadn't. "No, I haven't," she said quietly.

She would never admit it out loud and she hated that the thought had even occurred to her but ever since hearing about what had happened with Abigail, Adaline felt she had made the right decision with William. Over the years she had questioned herself so many times. She had regretted leaving him over and over again. But seeing how things had played out between Henry and Abigail, Adaline finally felt peace about the choice she had made. If she hadn't she might have eventually gone through this very same scenario. She hated that such a selfish thought could occur to her at such a time as this but she couldn't deny it was in her mind.

Henry continued to walk back and forth and she wished he would stop and let her take care of him. She couldn't relate exactly to what he was feeling but she had lost a husband herself once. They hadn't had nearly so many years together but that didn't mean she had loved him any less. In fact, she'd been so in love and so convinced they were meant to be together that she'd agreed to Clarence's proposal only a few months after meeting him. She'd loved him so much and their time had been so short. She was still thankful for Flemming and the reminder she was to Adaline of that brief life she'd lived with Clarence.

She tried to think back to that time when she had lost him and what she had felt. What had helped her through that time? What could she share with Henry now that might help him? Unfortunately, everything that came to her mind sounded hollow and painfully cliché. Really, you had to learn those lessons of healing through time. Having someone tell you wasn't enough; you had to experience them for yourself.

"I can't bear this, Adaline," he said wrapping his arms around himself as if he were trying to hold himself together. He sounded tormented. Things had been bad enough before but Adaline realized until now that denial had been a kind of protection to him. Now it was gone and he was in agony. "How am I supposed to live without her? I wish I didn't have to."

He sounded like he wanted to end things. Would he? Of course, it didn't really matter because it wasn't an option. But even though he couldn't end his life she worried very much about a mental and emotion state that wanted to. If anything, she should feel _more_ concerned; Henry couldn't act on his feelings so they could only fester over time.

She got up and walked over to him. She put her hands on his arms and rubbed gently. She needed to get him to focus his mind on better thoughts. Thinking about wanting to die and being unable to would not help him. She wouldn't deny that his situation was grim but there were definitely thought processes that would make it even worse.

"You have people who still care about you," she said gently. "Think of Abe. You still have him. You still have me. I know it doesn't replace Abigail but you're not alone. We're going to help you get through this."

"I can't live with myself and I can't end my life. That makes me a monster."

The anguish in his voice made her ache and she feared he had fallen into a place she wouldn't be able to reach. She desperately tried to hold herself together. His look practically begged her to understand and she did but she couldn't let him fall any farther down into this pit. "No, it doesn't. It makes you a grieving man with a broken heart. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but it won't always hurt this much. I know that sounds like a line but I know from experience that it's true."

"Even worse."

"What?"

"The only thing worse than what I'm feeling right now is imagining that there might be a day when I could be capable of forgetting her or not loving her anymore."

"I'm not saying you'll forget her or stop loving her. I'm not saying that at all," she stressed. "When I lost Clarence I thought my life was over forever. I couldn't imagine anything good ever happening again. But then only a few weeks later I met you for the first time and being friends with you has been one of the best things in my life. I still love Clarence and I will always remember him. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it used to. Good things can still happen."

Her words didn't seem to have any positive affect on him. Henry pulled away and collapsed onto the couch. He looked so exhausted like he might faint at any moment. She went and sat beside him but something held her back from reaching out to touch him. "Maybe I don't want it to," he said quietly, his tone alarmingly cold. "Maybe I don't want life to 'just go on.' Abigail is irreplaceable. Any life without her is no life at all. The only thing holding me together was the hope that maybe she would come back; that maybe this was just some big misunderstanding. That maybe I would see her again. Now, that's gone."

And she was the one that had taken that away. Henry had wanted to remain in his denial but she had made him face reality. He felt she had taken away his last bit of hope, his lifeline and she began to feel afraid. She had wanted to help but she seemed only to be making matters worse.

Henry had been her lifeline in the darkest times of her life. They had first met when she had been drowning in grief, unable to believe she was a widow so young. She'd met him again when she was lost and terrified by the prospect of what she was becoming. Then him and Abigail had put her back together when she was certain her heart would never recover from the loss of William. All those terrible times he had been there for her. She wanted to help him like he'd helped her. Why couldn't she seem to? She wasn't making it better. It was like her very presence was making it worse.

"I know I'm not doing a very good job here but I'm trying to help," she admitted. "Please, just help me understand how I can help you."

"Don't you get it? Nobody can help me." He paused and gave her a look she had never seen before. "Least of all you."

"What does that mean?" she asked, startled.

"I can't even look at you," he said turning away from her, sounding disgusted.

Adaline felt her breath catch in her throat. She had never heard this tone of contempt in Henry's voice before especially not directed at her. "What? Why?"

"I look at you and all I see is the problem."

"I don't understand."

Henry was growing angry now. "I look at you and I just see what we are. I see what we _aren't_. If it weren't for that, for what I am, Abigail would still be here."

Adaline didn't know what to say. She had expected Henry to need her, to want her to be with him right now. She had thought their shared affliction would help to comfort him since she was the only one who could understand what it was like. She hadn't expected him to try to push her away and she certainly hadn't expected to be to him a symbol of the problem that had been the reason for Abigail's leaving.

"You and I we're not even the same," he added.

Adaline felt her heart start to pound in fear. This was something they didn't talk about and for good reason. Her and Henry were alike in that neither one of them was aging but they were different in one major way: Henry could die and come back to life but Adaline could not. Adaline had never died and, though they weren't certain, they both felt very strongly that if she did she would stay dead. They both knew it but they had an unspoken agreement not to talk about it. In a world where they were different from everyone else they needed each other. They needed to be _alike_. It had been best to overlook this difference in favor focusing on those things they could share.

Still, she had always known that it was a difficult subject for Henry. He had experienced death, many times but it was something she could not empathize with. She tried her best to understand but it wasn't something they could share. He did his best to accept this but she knew it hurt that in this area he was still alone. They knew it could have caused a rift between them so they never really went into it all that much. Adaline could see that not addressing this problem before had been a mistake because now, when Henry was depressed and feeling he wanted to die, was the very worst possible time for it to come up.

Adaline felt a sense of dread she never had around him before. He was envious of her. He wanted death and he resented her for her possibility of having it when he could not. "Henry, don't," she whispered as she shook her head. She couldn't do this, not right now. "Please, don't."

It was bad enough that she had already lost Abigail over the fact that she couldn't age. She couldn't lose Henry too over the fact that she could die. Losing Abigail was hard enough; she could not bear to lose Henry too. She needed him. She couldn't bear this terrible secret life without him. She'd always been able to count on him ever since the beginning. How would she make it in the world if she was all alone?

But it was all too easy to see that Henry had made up his mind and when he spoke the certainty in her voice confirmed it. "You know nothing about what it's like to be me. The dying, the coming back, the knowledge that no matter how terrible the world gets I'll have to be here to see it. You understand none of that."

"Please, don't do this. I'm begging you."

"You don't have to suffer like I do. It could all be over for you today, if you wanted. I'm in so much pain all the time and you don't understand it. I can't even talk to you about it. You've never even died once. You don't know how that feels. I, on the other hand, know exactly how it feels. I have to feel it over and over yet it's always out of my reach."

Adaline could see now that she had failed Henry, not just today but for a long time now. Henry had needed to talk about his death experiences more often and she had let him down. She could remember Henry talking more of his deaths back when they had first met. Adaline had listened but she had never known what to say. She'd always wanted to help but she didn't have the experience necessary to give good advice or comfort. Her silence hadn't been for a lack of caring but Henry must have taken it that way because he talked of it less as the years had passed. Abigail's leaving had not caused this particular issue; it had just brought to the surface in intensity what Henry must have felt for a long time. It was true that Henry was miserable and seeking a way out but this was obviously not a new thought for him.

"If I was like you I could be done. All of this would be over."

"You don't really mean that."

"That's the thing though; I really do. Not that it matters because _I_ can't have it."

"Stop it! Stop it!" she said firmly. This needed to end. There was too much between them to have him just be willing to throw it all away over this. Could he really sacrifice their 30 years of friendship over a single fight? She felt herself growing angry that he was trying to do that. "I know you're hurting and tired and experiencing unimaginable pain. I know that and it breaks my heart. But pushing me away isn't going to make things better. I know our conditions are different but we still have so much that we share and most importantly we care about each other. I know that I don't have experience when it comes to dying but that doesn't mean I don't care very much about what it's like for you. Please…we need each other."

Henry stared at her a long while and she had begun to hope maybe she'd gotten through. But when he spoke all those hopes disappeared.

"You need to go." His voice was firm and there was a finality in it that ripped her in two.

She wanted to fight for him but she could tell now was not the time. He was closed down and unreachable. She could stay and tell him all he meant to her but she couldn't make him accept it. She wanted to help him see all they had instead of focusing on what they didn't share but she couldn't do that when he refused to look. She knew that only damage would come from pushing right now.

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

"I don't know." He wasn't even looking at her now.

She stood, accepting defeat and used everything within in her to hold herself together until she could at least make it out the door. She stopped to write her number on a piece of paper and left it on the coffee table.

"I'll be in town for a few days. This is the hotel where I'll be staying. Call me when you're ready. Anytime."

She walked slowly to the door and she couldn't help but feel like this would be the last time she'd ever be here. Maybe even the last time she ever saw Henry. She knew she shouldn't but she decided to add one more thing before she left. She feared she wouldn't recover if he didn't reciprocate this but she had to say it.

"Henry, you're one of the best things that's ever happened to me and I would hate to lose you."

She wanted him to stop her; she hoped maybe he would say he changed his mind but he remained still and silent. She finally left, crying before she made it to the door. She had come here to help Henry, to try and do what she could to make things better for him. But now she feared she'd only helped to push him over the ledge on which he'd been hovering.

Over the following days she visited Abe. She thought about doing some sight-seeing but her heart wasn't in it at all. Mostly, she sat in her hotel room by the phone and waited for it to ring. She hoped that after Henry had some time to think that he would feel differently about what had happened between them.

After four days of silence Adaline got on a plane and headed home. She had what Henry felt he wanted and she could see that he despised her for it. She didn't want to believe that this was the end of their relationship but if there was something she understood all too well it was endings. And this felt very much like an ending.


	6. Chapter 6

**San Fransico-2010**

There was no job at the San Francisco Heritage Society that Adaline enjoyed more than working in the newsreel archive. She loved pouring over the old video reels, glimpsing the past through blurry black and white moving images. In here, alone, she could indulge herself in reminiscing in a way she could never do in public. Without any dangerous, curious eyes upon her she could get lost in these pictures from the past. It was history to them all. Even her colleagues, who valued and appreciated the history, still only saw it as history. No one, of course, knew she could look at almost all these records as someone who had lived there. They didn't know that was why she was so good at her job. They didn't know that was why she cared so much.

She had to be careful about how she acted and what she said around them, ever mindful not to let herself get distracted in their presence, lest she allow too much of herself slip out. But she was rarely disturbed in this room. Here she could be herself. There was no hiding required. She could spend hours, sometimes even an entire day in here without being disturbed. So, it was a surprise when she heard someone's voice calling out her name. But it wasn't half as surprising as the shock she felt when she realized who was speaking.

"Adaline."

Her head jerked up at that never used, barely known by anyone, name. It rang out in the quiet room though it had been said as a whisper. When she saw who had spoken it she couldn't even believe her eyes. She felt like she was seeing a ghost from her past, someone who had long since died. Ironically though, this was the one person she knew who never could die.

"Henry," she managed to say though it was more of a question or an exclamation than a greeting. Of all the unbelievable things she'd witnessed in her life, the sight in front of her, his presence here seemed the most unbelievable of all. She hardly recognized him, not because he'd changed at all, but because she had not laid eyes on him for so long she'd nearly forgotten what he looked like.

Adaline hadn't seen Henry since that terrible day in 1985 when he had asked her to leave. When she had left New York after that visit she had been sure that their friendship was over. As much as it had hurt she had resolved herself to living without him and had done her best to try and move on. She had only just managed to begin the process when, several months after that day, she had received a letter from him. The letter was brief and there was no apology or explanation for what had happened between. Against her better judgment she had written him back, going along with his act that nothing had happened and everything was normal, even though she could feel distinctly how much everything was different. Something in her gut had warned her that things would not end well but she had ignored it in her desperate attempt to salvage their friendship.

But she'd still lost him. As painful as that day in his living room had been, it wasn't half as bad as what had followed. The letters continued for a few years but they were nothing like the ones they'd shared before that fight; they completely lacked any heart or substance at all. Over time they became shorter in length and came after longer and longer periods of silence. Henry called her a few times, mostly on holidays, but each time it was like she was talking to a stranger. She'd known for a long time she was losing him and it was a long, torturous thing he'd put her through.

Then eventually the letters stopped all together. Some of hers even came back because Henry had moved on, again, and left no forwarding address. It was cruel really to treat a person that way. If it had been a clean break at least she would have known where she stood. If he hadn't contacted her after their fight she would have known it was over and she could have started to move on then. But when he had sent that first letter it had given her hope again. Then he'd taken it away excruciatingly slowly.

Maybe it was her fault. He'd never once apologized for what he'd said or the way he'd treated her that day and she'd never required him to. She knew that she really should have but she'd just been so afraid of losing him that she'd taken whatever he was willing to give. Henry was the only friend she got to keep. There was no one like him and if she lost him, he would be impossible to replace. But her efforts had done her little good in the end.

Looking at him now she wasn't sure at all what to feel. Remarkably, she felt very little. She used to imagine what this moment would be like. She'd pictured seeing Henry again and what she would say and how she would react. She'd imagined every scenario on the spectrum from raging anger to tears of happiness. But it had been a long time since she'd had any of those kinds of daydreams and now that it was actually happening she found she felt none of those things. She found herself feeling nothing at all. Henry was nothing to her anymore. Maybe it wasn't so remarkable considering it had been many years since she'd even received a letter from him; he was no longer a part of her life.

He let out a sigh and smiled just barely as he looked at her. "You look good. Really good. Just the same." He sounded reassured to find her appearance unchanged which she thought was very strange considering agelessness was their enemy.

"You don't," she replied. He didn't look good and he didn't look the same. Of course he hadn't changed physically at all but he didn't look like Henry, at least not the Henry she used to know. The Henry she had known, the Henry she'd loved, had been classy; very mindful of his appearance. She didn't know who this man was. He was sloppy. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He had several days' growth on his face and his hair was longer than she'd remembered, like he forgotten to get it cut a few weeks ago. She didn't know what to make of his careless appearance. It was so out of character of the man she knew.

But she didn't actually know Henry. Not anymore.

He looked a little hurt by her words but nodded slightly like he had to agree. She didn't care if he was hurt. Resentment, the first emotion to make an appearance, sprung up in her chest. She latched on to that anger and let it grow, lest some other less desirable, more vulnerable emotion should try to replace it. Henry had only been here a minute and he was already provoking emotions in her which did not bode well for the conversation ahead. Anger was, by far, her safest option right now.

He looked at her, waiting, and she could see that he hoped she would say something else but she didn't. She had no idea what to say. She wasn't even sure what was happening or how she felt about it. He was the one who had shown up unexpectedly after years apart; let him be the one to decide what to say.

"This place is wonderful," he said finally gesturing around the room. "I can see why you like it so much here. And you're more than qualified. More than anyone else could ever hope to be."

She just glared at him. His words only made her angrier. With all the water that had flowed under the bridge, did he really think they were just going to talk? And small talk at that? It made it seem like what he had done was small and that he had no idea of the pain he had put her through.

He noticed the expression on her face and he became more serious. "Adaline-" he started but this pushed her into action.

"Don't call me that," she hissed. "Not here. My name is Jennifer now." She closed the door, looking around nervously, hoping that none of her co-workers had heard.

She leaned against the closed door and stared at him again. He was a mess. She could see how worried, no _scared_ , he was of talking to her. He understood exactly how badly he had messed up. Of course, he was trying to be casual and keep things light; he never had been good with conflict. But she could see the truth all over his face. He never had been able to hide what he really felt. Henry, always wearing that big bleeding heart on his sleeve. She loved that about him.

She shook her head quickly and looked away from him. No, she didn't love him, not anymore. She was angry and she would stay angry. She hated him for abandoning their friendship. Despised him for what he'd put her through over the years. But there was a small part of her, a part that, try as hard she could, she could not deny. That part wanted nothing more than to run to him now, to talk to him, to touch him. That part had missed him so much it ached. She hated herself for that part. She wanted to be filled with nothing but rage. She wanted to send him packing just like he deserved but that terrible small part wouldn't let her do that just yet.

She tried to repress that part of her that was so willing to take him back, to feel sorry for him. After all, she had been easy on him before and what had it gotten her? Nothing. But he looked so pitiful she knew it was going to be hard to stay mad at him if he kept it up. It had been easy to stay mad at him when he was far away; it was not nearly as easy when he was standing right before her.

"I'm sorry. I forgot," he said, with more sincerity than she'd expected. "You change it so often, I forget what it is." And of course, he'd always called her by her given name. He knew the truth about her and she'd never wanted him to use her aliases.

She crossed her arms in an attempt to feel stronger. "I change it every 10 years," she shot back. That wasn't often and, if he had been around, he would have known what her current alias was. Even though she had always been Adaline to him he'd still never gotten her fake name wrong. Not before...

There were suddenly tears in her eyes and she was frustrated by them. He'd been gone for so long that she thought she'd put it all behind her but all of that hurt was coming back so quickly.

She hadn't known how she would handle life without him. Henry had been a part of her life ever since she'd been forced to face the reality that she wasn't aging anymore. He'd been there to help her ever since she began her life on the run. She hadn't known how she was going to bear her secret without him there. But after he'd forced her out of his life she'd found a way. She'd had to. She had Flemming who knew her secret and she found a way to content herself with that. Aside from her daughter, she pulled away from the world. She would have to admit that the hurt he'd caused her had pushed her further into isolation than what her secret already required.

It wasn't fair. He was mad at her for something that was completely out of her control. He had pulled away because she could die and he couldn't. That wasn't anything she could change. It hadn't mattered to him that she would do anything to make it possible for him if she could. For years they had been a team until he drew a line between them. He'd left her feeling like she was all alone and not understood by anyone in the world. She knew he'd been in terrible pain at the time but she had been trying to help him. Her approach may not have been perfect but her heart had been in the right place.

And now he was back and bringing it all up. It startled her how much of that old pain and affection came back to her and with such intensity. She'd come to accept that she would never know him again and here he was making her want it all over again. What good reason could he possibly have for being here?

She waited on him to speak, to explain himself. She didn't trust herself enough to talk right now. She would either start crying or screaming and she didn't want to do either.

"So..." he said. "You're back in San Francisco. It must be nice to be back home. I know you haven't been here in a long time."

He didn't seem to know where to start any more than she did. But she knew that this wasn't good enough. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I wanted to see you," he said nervously.

Her arms were already held so tightly to herself but she squeezed her arms with her fingers hard to distract herself from how good it felt to hear him say that. "Really, Henry?" she asked skeptically.

"Really," he answered genuinely. "You're angry. It's alright; you have every right to be."

"25 years, Henry."

"I know," he said looking down in shame.

"You've been gone for _25_ _years_ and you just come back like nothing has even happened. You know I may look exactly the same as I did back then but I'm not. That's a long time even if you don't age."

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry. We did stay in touch though."

She had thought it would be better if he said 'sorry' but she didn't feel any better. It was an apology but it still felt like he was trying to make an excuse. "Barely. For a while. And it's not the same and you know it."

"I know."

"And now you just show up here out of the blue?"

"I wanted to write before I came but I wasn't sure exactly where you were living."

"And whose fault is that?" she bit back.

He sighed sadly. "It's mine."

" _I_ , was the one who wanted to stay in touch, tried everything to stay in touch. _You_ were the one picking up and moving at the drop of a hat without even telling me where you were going. After my last few letters came back to me, I got the hint."

Her voice was getting angrier and angrier but her eyes were watering with tears. _I missed you_ , she thought. But she could not bear to say it out loud. It would feel too real and it would undo her.

It was like he read her mind. It used to be that way between them. They used to always be on the same wavelength. "I missed you," he said. It was so quiet, so heartfelt. It was too much. She walked to the other side of the room to put some distance between them. She couldn't bear being close to him. The tears were starting to come and she didn't want him to see that he had made her cry.

"Don't say that."

"But it's the truth."

"No. You don't get to say that. Not when you're the one who left."

"But I _do_ miss you."

"Why now?" she asked, paying special attention to her voice to make it sound strong. "Why would you come to see me after all of this time?"

"I was wrong. All those years ago...I was wrong. You were right about me, about...Abigail," he managed. The name still seemed to cause him a great deal of pain. "When she left I got lost. I didn't know what to do without her. I wanted to die."

"I know that," she snapped. After all, it was the reason he had left her. She did not need to be reminded of it.

"Well," he said, clearly stumbling. He was growing more uncomfortable as she was growing more hostile. "Obviously, that wasn't an option. So, I thought…I felt…"

"What?" she said shortly. She was growing impatient. She just wanted Henry to get to the point so that she could decide how she felt about it. She didn't need a lot of extra time in which to grow even more emotional.

"I wanted to stop living. If I couldn't die I decided I would just do my best to stop living, to not feel, to not enjoy anything."

"None of this was my fault. It wasn't fair. I always…" _loved you,_ she thought but could not bear to say it. "I was just trying to help you."

"I know that. That's why I left."

The look on his face was so remorseful and she didn't understand his expression or his words. "What are you talking about?"

"I had to get away from you. Honestly, I wanted to destroy myself and I knew you would never allow me to do that to myself. I tried to keep talking to you for a while but I kept going into a darker and darker place. I knew I couldn't fool you forever about what was really going on and I knew that once you understood what was happening you would intervene. I _never_ doubted you cared for me."

The last sentence was so filled with care; it was so much the Henry she used to know. How was it possible for him to have such an effect on her after being gone for so long? She put her hands to her stomach which now felt like it was about to drop to the floor. This was not what she had expected him to say; she was not prepared for _this_.

"You were a true friend to me," he continued, "and I knew you would only do what was best for me. Even if that meant…moving on. I didn't want to do that then."

She couldn't help her curiosity. "And now?"

He paused. "I'm ready to do that," he said with difficulty. "Not living my life isn't going to change anything. It won't bring Abigail back. She made her decision and I need to make mine. I need to start living my own life again."

This was everything she had wanted for Henry. All she had ever wanted was for him to be able to heal but that had been a long time ago. After waiting for this for so many years she wasn't sure she cared anymore.

"I thought you were angry at me."

"I wanted to be angry but I wasn't. I wanted to stay in denial and you wouldn't let me. But I knew, even then, that you were right and I was wrong. I knew you cared and wanted to help me and I just refused the help."

"I thought you hated me."

Henry was obviously shocked. "Hated you? _Hated_? For what?"

"Because I'm not immortal. For being able to have what you can't."

"That doesn't matter to me."

"Yes, it does!"

"It doesn't matter to me as much as you matter to me."

She thought she had put that day behind her. But to hear him now acknowledge what she had so wanted him to then, to know he had known the truth all along, she knew she hadn't put any of it behind her. A sob escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

"Adaline-" he said, starting to approach her.

She held up a hand to stop him. He looked like he wanted to reach out and touch her, to comfort her. She really wanted him to and she didn't want him to all at the same time. She turned her back to him because she needed to think. This was new information. Things were so different than she'd been thinking they were all this time. There was a war of emotions inside of her and she didn't know how to deal.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" she asked.

"I'm telling you now."

"Well, maybe now it's too late." She said it with more strength than she really felt. She said it with the conviction she wanted to feel but didn't. The years apart may have made her colder and hard but not enough that she didn't still want him.

"I really hope not," he said quietly.

Things could have been resolved and so much sooner if he'd only told her. Now it had been so long and there was so much damage she wasn't sure if things could be fixed.

"I trusted you. You know how hard that is," she said, her voice still sounded angry but it was starting to break.

"I know." He sounded like he was going to cry too.

She turned to face him. Tears were running down her face now but she didn't care anymore. She hadn't known what to say at the start but now it came rushing out. It had been building for years. "Henry, I don't have friends, you know that. At least, not ones I can really be close to or ones that I can know for more than a few years at a time. You know we can't just trust people. But you were the one exception to that rule. I could be myself with you; you could actually know me without all the secrets because we had this in common. You could actually be someone I didn't have to give up. You made me feel like I wasn't alone. And then you left me. Alone. You broke my heart."

She let out a shudder. She hadn't meant to say all of that, especially that last bit. But it had been playing in her head for so long and it felt good to get rid of it. It felt like a weight lifted from her and she hoped it hurt him.

Henry definitely looked like he was going to cry now. He could see how much he had hurt her now and that hurt him. But watching his heart break was not as satisfying as she thought it would be.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am that I hurt you, Adaline. I would do anything to take it all back, to do everything differently. You are the best friend I've ever had in my entire life."

She was crying in earnest now. She didn't want to but she couldn't help it. All of the anger had bled out of her so fast and without it there was only the pain. She looked down, her soft crying the only sound in the room for a few minutes. For so long all she wanted from him was to say he was sorry, to admit he was wrong and to know that she cared. But now that he had, it didn't fix everything. It still hurt and things were still so messed up.

"I want things back the way they were before," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears hot against her lids. That's what she wanted too. So much. "I don't know if they can be," she moaned.

"Maybe not," he said quietly, sadly. "But we could try. Are you willing to try?" He was pleading with her.

"I don't know. I can't go through all of this again."

"I won't let you down like that again."

"I cannot lose you again," she stressed.

"If you just give me a second chance I won't betray you again. I promise."

"What good are your promises?" she shouted. She was filled with rage and hurt. She hated him for putting her through all of this. She hated him for being her friend, for making her love him in the first place and then for leaving her. She hated him for coming back to her now and she hated herself for wanting him still. She was frozen in place with eyes shut, arms crossed and head hung as she cried, not even caring that it was angry and ugly.

She stayed like that for so long and it was so all-consuming she didn't hear him. It took her a while to finally open her eyes and look at him. She found he'd slumped down to his knees. He had his face in his hands and he was weeping.

She wanted to stay mad at him. She wanted to be unforgiving. But he looked so pitiful she just couldn't leave him like that. Not Henry.

 _It doesn't matter to me as much as you matter to me._

As it had been with his envy so it was with her anger. She still had so many hurt feelings that would need to be mended and part of her still felt she hated him. But none of that was as powerful as how much she cared for him and always had.

She walked over to him and reached out. She paused for just a second before she put her hand on his shoulder. It had been decades and it felt strange yet so familiar. To her surprise, he jerked away like an injured animal trying to escape the help it needed.

Still crying with his face in his hands he spoke though it was hard to understand through the tears. "I'm such a fool. I ruin _everything_. I mess up _everything_ with everyone who means the most to me. I'm alone and it's all my fault. I've made everyone go away," he said and started to cry even harder.

She kneeled next to him and reached out to his shoulders again, though firmer this time. "Henry," she said gently.

He wouldn't look at her; he was too ashamed, too regretful, and she had to place a hand on his face to make him look up. His face was an even sadder sight and it hurt her so much. What had he gone through since they'd last been together? It was obviously much more than he'd ever written to her in those vague letters. She couldn't imagine what might have caused all the pain displayed on his face.

"Will you forgive me?" he asked. "I know I don't deserve it. But I need you...and I want you to be in my life again. I miss you so much and I want to make it up to you."

She knew he'd just laid out his whole heart to her. She could crush it right now and destroy him if she wanted. She could have the revenge she had wanted for so long. She could pay him back for the years of absence. But that was the very last thing she wanted. She started to cry again. He _was_ sorry. He was different. She knew it now. She also knew that, anger or no anger, it was always going to end like this. The bond between them was too strong to have been broken even by all that had happened.

" _Of course_ I forgive you."

He closed his eyes and cried in relief. She reached out to hold him and he quickly threw his arms around her in response. He held her tight and she buried her face in his shoulder and let herself lose it in tears. She sobbed feeling the relief of his comfort just like she had so many times during their friendship, just as she'd longed to do so many times since.

"I do want to try," she admitted. "I _do_ want to try again with you."

They cried together for a long time and she marveled that he still felt the same. After all these years was it really possible that their friendship could remain? It certainly seemed like a possibility now. The pain and distance that had felt so insurmountable suddenly didn't seem so impossible to conquer.

They were both a mess when they pulled apart. She was once again glad that she was never disturbed here in the archive. This would have been awkward to explain to a co-worker if they had walked in on this. Henry reached in his pocket and handed her his handkerchief. She actually laughed a little; some things never changed. She reached out and touched one of his unusually long curls. "You need a haircut," she said.

He smiled a little and wiped his face as she cleared off hers. It was quiet and she took a deep breath trying to steady her shaky voice before she spoke.

"Henry...it's time for you to go back home. To New York. To Abe."

"I know. But...I haven't been there much for him either. What if he doesn't forgive me?" he said, looking down.

Adaline placed a hand on his chin and turned his face towards her. "Of course, he'll forgive you. He'll be mad, sure. That might last for a while. Actually, knowing Abe it _will_ last for a while. But he'll forgive you right away."

"How...what makes you think that?"

"I did," she said with a smile. "And he loves you even more."

"You really think so?"

"Of course. He wants you back."

Henry looked like he was on the verge of being overwhelmed again by thoughts of his son. "How can you be sure?"

"Because he's told me many times how much he misses you."

"You've been talking to him?"

Adaline smiled, a real one this time. "Of course I have. You know how much I care about him."

"You're such a good friend," he said his lips quivering with emotion. He looked amazed at her concern for Abe and regret in feeling he hadn't done as good of a job looking after his own son.

She hugged him again. He needed so much reassuring now that his heart had been cut open everything in it spilled out. He was returning to himself, emotional as ever. "I've missed you," he said again softly, now in her arms.

She had missed him too, so terribly. So much that, even though she felt it completely, she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. It felt like if she did, even though she finally had him back, she wouldn't be able to bear it. If she admitted how much she had missed him she felt the weight of the loss she had experienced might crush her in an irreversible way.

Instead she smiled and, squeezing him a little harder, said, "We have a lot of catching up to do."

They hadn't seen each other in so many years. Henry had missed so much. As he was so fond of saying, it was a long a story, and Adaline couldn't wait to tell him.


	7. Chapter 7

**New York-2015**

Henry grinned as he put the blanket over Abe's sleeping form. "I must admit, and I suppose I can since he's not awake to be horribly embarrassed with me, that I have never tired of this," he said, tucking the blanket gently around Abe.

Adaline smiled warmly. "Me neither," she said as she pulled another one over Flemming who was slumped over against Abe on the couch and also sleeping sounding. "It's been a while since I've had the opportunity," she said reaching out a hand and lightly brushing Flemming's hair before standing up next to Henry. "I miss it."

They stood and watched their two children in silence for a few moments, unable to pull themselves away from the rare sight. Their children would always been seen as children in their eyes but moments like these, that were reminiscent of those childhood times, had become much scarcer over the years.

They'd spent the evening sharing an amazing feast, courtesy of Abe with Flemming's help. Even after the food was gone they had sat and talked for hours sharing several bottles of wine and many, many old memories. As the night wore on Abe and Flemming had given it their best try but as much as they wanted to keep up with their parents, physically they had their limits. When the clock showed it was after midnight, Henry had suggested they relocate inside secretly hoping that the two 'kids' would be able to get some rest even though they were both too stubborn to admit defeat and go to bed. They hadn't been in the living room for very long when Abe and Flemming had finally succumbed to their fatigue.

"I must admit I envy you," Adaline said turning towards Henry.

"Why is that?"

"Because of this; having Abe so close to you. You are able to spend so much time with him."

Henry smiled. "I _am_ fortunate. Moving back here, living here with him, has been the best part of my new life here."

"I wish I had the same chance."

"Flemming doesn't like the idea of living with her old mum again?" Henry asked with a smile.

Adaline laughed quietly. "Ah, no. She actually laughed in my face when I brought up the subject with her."

Henry laughed. "Well, if you will recall, Abe wasn't too thrilled at the idea either, at first. In fact, I was only supposed to live here temporarily until I got settled and found my own place. But after a while we both found we didn't want it to be temporary. I give him a lot of trouble but he takes care of me. He's a good boy," Henry said a sudden catch in his throat.

"His father's not half bad either," she said giving his shoulder a playful, nudge.

He smiled at the compliment. "You never know, maybe Flemming will come around to the idea too, in time."

Adaline looked serious for a moment. Her eyes were sad now as they looked at her daughter. "I suppose that it's true, what they say."

"What's that?"

"You really never do stop worrying about them, no matter how old they get."

"No, never," Henry agreed. "If anything I think it's getting _worse_."

She nodded in agreement. "I just worry about her. She's...she's getting _old._ I know I don't have that much time left with her. What if something happens to her? What if she…goes and I'm not there?" Adaline looked down, tears threatening to overtake her.

Henry put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "You think about it too much," he said softly.

"And _you_ don't consider it enough."

This was one area where they disagreed. Adaline tended to think about Flemming's coming demise too often and worried about it too much. Henry avoided all thoughts of Abe's and refused to acknowledge it at all.

Henry swallowed and looked away. "What good will that do? Worrying about it won't keep him here any longer."

"Neither will avoiding thinking about it."

"Then I suppose nothing we do will change the outcome."

"I know it won't change the outcome for Abe. _You_ are the one I'm worried about. I worry about what will happen to you if you don't prepare yourself at all for what's coming."

"Well, I worry about you robbing yourself of your present joy. So, I guess you could say we're at an impasse."

"Agree to disagree?" she said amicably, ending this particular conversation. They'd had this disagreement more than once before but they'd never been able to convince each other to change their minds.

They stood in silence for a few more minutes watching Abe and Flemming. "We should capture the moment," Henry finally said.

"Allow me," Adaline said reaching into her pocket and taking her cell phone out.

Henry rolled his eyes. "You're going to take it with _that_ thing? Why don't you use an actual camera?"

"Because this is much quieter. That old relic of yours will surely wake them, and then think of the argument we'll hear."

"Relic?" Henry asked in offense. "I'll have you know that model of camera was cutting edge when I bought it. It-"

"Shhh," Adaline said, cutting him off. "I know all about it. I was around when it was invented," she said with a smile.

"Well," he said giving in. "You'll print off an actual photograph for me won't you?"

"Yes, yes. Of course I will," she said rolling her eyes and then lifting her phone to take the picture. She looked at the picture and, pleased with it, she showed it to Henry who nodded in approval. "Your age really does show at times," she added, shaking her head at him.

Henry made a great show of looking offended. "Kids these days. They really don't have any respect."

"Kids?" she laughed. "I'm 107."

"Yeah, I know exactly how old you are. I still stand by what I said," he said grinning.

They walked over to the other couch and sat down. Adaline sat next to Henry, tucking her legs under her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. They sat in comfortable silence just enjoying each other's company. Flemming often commented on how differently her mother acted when she was with Henry. Almost every time they came for a visit, she would tell Henry how relaxed Adaline seemed around him. She could be open and honest; she could be herself. He could see in the way Flemming smiled when she said it, how much of a relief it was to her to see it.

Henry was glad to hear it. He gained so much strength and joy from his friendship with Adaline and he was glad to hear the exchange was mutual. They had to be so careful about what they said and did and the image they projected to the world that it was wonderful to be around someone without having to think about all of that.

Being around her was also the only time he could feel truly understood. He could speak of his burdens knowing that she shared them too. Abe, and recently Jo, were the only two people in Henry's life who knew his secret but there were still so many things he couldn't share with Abe and especially not with Jo yet. There were things he didn't want to burden his son or his partner with. And even if he chose to put that on them they could still never understand it completely. But with Adaline he didn't have to make those same considerations.

"I've taken the whole week off," he said, breaking the silence. "But I didn't make us a lot of plans. Of course, I bought us some tickets to the latest shows but other than that I thought we could just play it by ear and see what we could get ourselves into."

Adaline had been to New York so many times she'd already seen most of the tourist sites around the city, some of them multiple times. They did still enjoy going to Broadway while she was in town and usually hit a new show every night of her visit. Of course, sightseeing was not really the point of these visits and they didn't really care most of the time what it was that they were doing, only that they were doing it together.

"Sounds good," she said smiling. "I do hope that you will at least take me to see this strange new place you work at. I can still hardly believe that you're a medical examiner now. I know you say it has its similarities to what you were doing before but it just seems…so different."

"Of course I'll take you. It is different, obviously, than practicing medicine but I've enjoyed the challenge. It was time for a change. And as odd as it might sound, facing the darkness and the morbidity of this line of work every day has really helped me to conquer my own demons. You would think seeing death every day would make me even more depressed but somehow it has made me feel more _alive_ , more connected with the living." He paused and gave her a wry smile. "That all sounds terribly maudlin doesn't it?"

"No, not really," she said reassuring. "It's good to hear you're finding a balance. And I'm really glad you're getting to experience something new. I love getting your letters; they're so entertaining. I'm looking forward to meeting this Lucas character."

Henry let out a laugh. "You will not be disappointed I'm sure. But I will warn you he will most likely make an extremely awkward attempt at flirting with you."

"Don't you worry about me. If there is one thing I have learned after so many years of being perpetually 29 it is how to turn men down. It's flattering but sometimes I just want to tell them 'look I've heard it all before; I'm not impressed. Also, I'm old enough to be your great-grandmother.'"

Henry laughed loudly before he could stop himself and then looked over in alarm to make sure the kids were still sleeping. When they did not stir he whispered, "Well, that certainly would make for interesting conversation."

"It sure would. They would never believe me, of course, but it would be interesting to see what they would say. But," she said returning to their original topic. "I'm most looking forward to meeting Detective Martinez."

Adaline gave Henry a very knowing glance which he pretended to ignore. His relationship with Jo was not something they had discussed in person yet and Adaline had clearly been looking forward to it. Truth be told, Henry had too.

"Please tell me you'll let me meet her."

"Do you want to?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course I do! You have had nothing but wonderful things to say about her. And she's the first person you've told your story to in over 50 years so that's a big deal. You didn't actually think I wouldn't want to meet her did you?"

"I just wasn't sure if you would want to or not. You know, what with the careful associations we have to keep and all."

"Henry, she already knows your secret."

"Yes, but she doesn't know _yours_."

"Well, we don't have to open up the conversation with my age. If you continue to grow closer I'm sure it will come up later. For right now I just want to meet her."

"Alright," he said with a pleased smile.

"Besides, if you're going to marry her someday then I'll have to tell her."

"Wh-wh-what?" Henry asked flustered. "Who said anything about marriage?"

"You did."

"I never said anything of the sort!"

"Of course you did. Every time you talk about her it's crystal clear how much you're in love with her."

"I care about Jo, very much but I…how I feel it's…"

"Please, Henry. I'm a woman; we know about these things," she said holding up a hand to stop his further attempts at making excuses. "So, do you think she feels the same? I mean she learned about the immortality issue and didn't run for the hills so I would say that's a good sign."

Henry smiled a very pleased, very proud smile. He had been saving this story so he could tell her in person. He wanted to see her reaction. "What?" Adaline said sitting up straighter and giving him a shove. "What haven't you told me?"

He proceeded to tell her about the night Jo came to the shop after leaving Isaac and her chance at seeing Paris. Adaline's mouth was hanging open by the end of it. "Henry! She's in love with you!"

Henry's face reddened and his smile deepened. "Yes, I think she is."

"So?!" she asked excitedly. "Have you made your move yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm waiting for things to settle down. So many things happened all at once around that time, the last being her learning of my secret. I'm just trying to give her some time to digest that before I overwhelm her with another big confession."

Adaline eyed him suspiciously. "Alright. You get a pass _for now_. But I _will_ be checking up on this matter to make sure you follow through. I'm not going to let you talk yourself out of this one."

"I would expect no less," he said lifting his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

They sat smiling in silence for a few moments but then Adaline looked sad. "What's wrong?" he asked.

It was clear she was growing a little teary-eyed. "Nothing's wrong. I'm really just so happy for you. After everything that happened to you I was afraid…I was afraid you would never be happy again."

Henry gave her a long hug. He realized again just how much he had worried her over the years. He had put her through so much over the years and yet she was still here by his side. "Adaline, you make me feel lucky."

She laughed. "What?" she asked as she pulled back and looked at him.

"You've been such a good friend to me. I'm so fortunate to have you in my life. Have I said that lately?"

"I never get tired of hearing it if that's what you need to know," she said smiling back at him. "Henry...can I ask you a question?" she asked quietly, nervously.

"Of course," he said with a smile. Then he noticed the seriousness on her face. He sensed it was a question she wasn't sure he would like but he encouraged her to go on. "What is it?"

"You've done it all before, from start to...finish. Would you really do it all again, even knowing how it has to end?"

She'd never asked him this before all things considered. He understood what she meant and his eyes burned a little with tears. She knew he was thinking about Abigail and how things had ended. He had taken the risk to love her but he had not fully understood what it would ultimately cost him. Now that he did, Adaline wanted to know if he would accept that eventual end in order to first have the joy. It was a hard answer to give but he knew she needed to hear it. She had never allowed herself this privilege before, of marriage, of having a partner by her side who knew her secret, and as much as it would obviously cause her pain someday he needed her to know it was worth it.

"Yes," he said with certainty. "I will definitely do it again. At first I was sure I never could again. But I think we have to. The only alternative is to become someone like Adam. And as afraid as I am of loving someone again and then losing them I'm more afraid of becoming like _that_."

"You never could."

"Well, I'm not going to be taking any chances. I came a bit too close after…you know; what happened with Abigail. The years that followed and what they were like, they scared me. I do not like what I became or how quickly it happened without someone by my side. Besides, I do love Jo. If she'll have me I will gladly take the risk."

Adaline looked at him with surprise and possibly a little awe. "You're being _so_ brave. Even after all you've been through. It makes me wonder if maybe I could be too."

"Sure you could. I hope you will if you get the chance." He paused for a moment and thought. "Can I ask you a question now?"

"Of course."

"Why did you forgive me? When I came back after all those years away how could you possibly forgive me for leaving you for so long?"

Adaline thought about it and shrugged. "Because I love you," she said simply.

"But I didn't deserve it."

She shook her head. "It isn't about deserving it. Henry, all those things I said before you left they didn't change, ever. I always loved you and I always believed in our relationship. I never wanted our friendship to be over. Was I mad? Yes. Did I want to get you back for what you did? Sometimes. But what it all came down to was I wanted you back in my life and when you gave me that chance I gladly took it. I could see that you were truly sorry and that helped me to forgive you for the pain you caused me."

He smiled and then looked at her for a while growing a little solemn. "I could still lose you some day," he said quietly.

They had learned from their mistakes. Death was no longer a topic that was off limits and they no longer ignored the one major difference between their conditions. Since Henry had returned they talked about these things openly. Adaline still couldn't always relate to him when he spoke of his death experiences but he knew now he had her support and encouragement and that made all the difference. Something new he'd shared with her since they started talking about these things was his fear that one day she would die and he would find himself alone. Though it was hard to think about and discuss these things they were much better out in the open where they could deal with them together.

She reached out and took his hand, holding it tight. "I know."

"But I promise you," he said smiling, because he said this often, "You will never lose _me_ ever again."

"Thank you Henry," she said as she gave him a hug. "For everything."

Henry thought about the past with Adaline, the good and the bad times. They had been through so much together and he knew there was still so much in the future they would share. If he did marry Jo someday he knew Adaline would be there to celebrate it. On the unspeakable day when he would lose Abe he knew she would be there to mourn with him. And in every day in between they would have their friendship to support them. It was hard to remember the time when he hadn't had her to share this incredible journey with. He couldn't believe that there had ever been a day when he'd been so broken he thought he could voluntarily give up such a precious thing. It was a mistake he knew he would never make again.

The future was a mystery but one thing was for certain: Whatever happened they would be there for each other, again and again.


End file.
